Halo: Order 65
by Don113
Summary: As the Clone Wars rage on, the Office of Naval Intelligence secretly embarks on a mission that may change the history of the galaxy forever.
1. Chapter 1: Grievously Mistaken

Chapter 1: Grievously Mistaken

**1231 hrs, February 12th 2558 (Military Calendar)/  
CISCom, Pau City  
Utapau System, Utapau**

General Grievous still had yet to recover from the results of his embarrassing encounter with his new nemesis, Master Chief Petty Officer Spartan-117. He simply did not have enough time to have a full body refit, so the technicians did what they could to repair his damaged chest plate.There was still a dark scorch where the Spartan Laser had hit him, and on top of it all his wheezing and hacking coughs were becoming worse than ever. However, all his arms were repaired. And he was still, after all, the greatest Jedi killer in the galaxy.

"So," said Nute Gunray, the Trade Federation's despicable Viceroy; Grievous longed for the day when he was no longer needed. "Another world lost to the UNSC. Their armies are pushing ours back on every front, and the Republic has joined the fray. I must say, General, your skills are not as great as I had expected."

Grievous imagined crushing Gunray's head beneath his duranium feet. "Our forces are retreating strategically. Soon, there will be few ships and men left to guard Galactic City. That is when we will strike."

There was a collective murmur. "I have not heard of this plan," said Gunray, "if you can call something like that a plan. Who authorized it?"

"I did," said Count Dooku. "By the order of my master, Darth Sidious. Perhaps you would like to tell him yourself what you think of his plans."

"Forgive me," said Gunray. "I did not know."

"Then you would do well to listen and not speak. When we strike at the heart of the Republic, their citizens will know the war will not end as soon as they would like to believe. Capturing the Chancellor and holding him hostage will strike terror into their hearts, because they will know then who holds the power in this galaxy." Dooku looked around. "Any objections? No? Good. General Grievous here shall lead the attack, and I have full confidence in his abilities. As for the UNSC…perhaps a raid on Earth shall distract them for a while. The Mandalorians could arrange that."

"What about the Jedi? Kenobi and Skywalker?"

"They will not be a danger to our plans. Do not worry, my friends. Our victory is at hand."

000

**1800 hrs, February 24th 2558 (Military Calendar)/  
UNSC BBBG-Class Battle Group "Tango"  
Coruscant System, Coruscant**

Captain Bart Mancuso sat in his room going over deployment, rotation and refit reports. The Iowa-Class Battleship _North Dakota_ and her escorts were rotating crews as scheduled, bringing up fresh faces from UNSCEC (UNSC Expeditionary Command), the UNSC's base on Coruscant that just happened to be seven miles away from GARHQ (Grand Army of the Republic Headquarters). The Iowas, as predicted, had led the charge into CIS territory and raise all sorts of hell; many CIS units retreated instead of fighting whenever an Iowa made her presence known. _North Dakota_ had done her job well, sustaining only two casualties, and those two young crewmen would soon be back on their feet. All in all, it was a perfect deployment, earning the battleship three battle-stars.

"Captain?" said his XO, Lieutenant Commander Jeffery Wong. "We're ready to commence shakedown procedures."

"Do it, Jeff," said Mancuso.

"I'm a step ahead of both of you," said the hologram of AI Horatio. He wore the uniform of a Revolutionary War-era American general. "Shakedown already in progress."

"Nice work, Horatio."

"Thank you, sir. Also, one of our allies's monitoring stations picked up a whisper near the edge of the system. Doesn't look too serious, but I thought you would like to know."

"Thanks."

"I thought you might be thankful. Adieu." Horatio saluted smartly, and his hologram vanished.

Wong shook his head; he wasn't fond of AIs and their often quirky behavior. "Hey, did you hear V. Adm. Parangosky's dead? Heart gave up on her."

"Murderous Margaret?" said Mancuso. "No, I didn't. Can't say I'm too sad to hear it. Nasty old bitch."

"And Admiral Harry Gibson's taking her place."

Mancuso looked up. "He got promoted?"

"Yeah. Apparently, finding several long-lost Spartans gave him a career boost." Wong shook his head again; apparently, he didn't much like Spartans either.

"Look at it this way, Jeff," said Mancuso. "Those Spartans give us a morale advantage over General Harris' high-and-mighty ODSTs."

Jeff grinned. "That they do, sir. That they do."

Horatio's hologram appeared again, and he appeared very serious. "Captain, I took a closer look at that whisper."

"Oh Christ," said Mancuso. "I'm not gonna like what I'm going to hear, am I?"

"I shouldn't think so, sir."

"Tell me anyway."

Horatio told him. Mancuso didn't like it

000

**1834 hrs, February 24****th**** 2558 (Military Calendar)/  
Grand Army of the Republic Fleet Operations Center  
Bright Jewel System, Ord Mantell**

Jedi General Etain Tur-Mukan was getting heartily sick of war. She had seen so many men dying, so much destruction, that she had become numbed to all kinds of violence. She was getting some much needed help from Master Yoda, but she couldn't risk staying with him for too long; the wizened 600 year-old Jedi might be able to detect the connection between Etain, the clone commando Darman, and her son, Venku. There was too much risk involved, so Etain had to deal with her grief on her own.

For the first time in a long time, Etain was put in charge of what Fi called "a spell in a stone frigate": filing flimsi reports and drinking gratuitous amounts of caf. She was torn whether this or combat was the worst part of her tour of duty. Her good friend from the 41st, Commander Gett, was suffering with her; the 41st were stationed on Ord Mantell for another month before they would ship out and join their brothers in the Outer Rim sieges. But worst of all was that she had had no contact from Omega Squad, Darman in particular. There were mentions of the UNSC's Spartans everywhere, though. Posters of Spartans, holovids of Spartans, Spartans standing over the crushed chassis of dozens of droids, Spartans standing tall. They had become as much of a legend as the two 'greatest' Jedi in the war, Anakin Skywalker and Obi-Wan Kenobi. They had helped boost morale in the Republic better than any propaganda effort that the Chancellor's advisors could come up with. Etain now understood why ONI did what they did during the Covenant War by marking Spartan casualties as MIA instead of KIA, but she still didn't like it. She wondered where the Master Chief was, and how he was doing. From what she had heard, John seemed to manufacture his own luck.

Commander Gett knocked before coming into her office. "Ma'am? Priority message from the UNSC's Tenth Fleet, Battle Group Tango. I don't have the clearance to decrypt it." He handed her a datapad.

**United Nations Space Command**  
**Alpha Priority Transmission 22981Y-16  
Public Key: **file/charlie-gamma-beta-two/  
**From: **Captain Bartholomew Mancuso, Commanding Officer,  
UNSCEC Battle Group Tango/ (UNSC Service Number: 00826-37125-BM)  
**To: **ALL AVAILABLE ALLIED UNITS  
**Subject: **IMMEDIATE RECALL  
**Classification: **Classified (BGX Directive)

/start file/

CIS forces detected on CORUSCANT system's edge. ALL available Allied warships to regroup at rally point **GAIA **at best speed. **ALL SHIPS **are to enact the Keyes Protocol immediately.

/end file/

Etain's eyes widened. "Commander! Get ready to move out!"

"What is it, ma'am?"

"The UNSC commander at Triple Zero just issued their equivalent of a Red Zero. CIS forces are converging on Coruscant."

Gett issued his orders quickly. "I thought the Seps wouldn't attack Triple Zero," he said in disbelief.

"So did I," said Etain, already gathering her things. "And so did a lot of people. It seems we were grievously mistaken." She snatched up her lightsaber. "How many ships do we have?"

"We have twelve ships ready to move out. About thirty others are still rotating crews."

"We'll take the twelve ships. Tell Commander Gree to follow us when he's ready."

"Yes, ma'am."

00000

**A/N: Here's something for you to enjoy on your Spring Break. Also, avid Tom Clancy fans may recognize some of the names here. **


	2. Chapter 2: Defense

Chapter 2: Defense

Chapter 2: Defense

**1902 hrs, February 24****th**** 2558 (Military Calendar)/**

**UNSC BBBG-Class Battle Group "Tango"**

**Coruscant System, Coruscant**

"What are they doing now?" asked Captain Mancuso.

"It looks like they're engaging GAR picket forces from the Home Fleet," said Lt. Com. Wong. "At least thirty CCS-Class Battle Groups, the largest centered on _Invisible Hand_."

"_Invisible Hand_? Grievous' ship?"

"That's the one," said Wong. "They're shredding the GAR forces like wet tissue paper."

It wasn't good news. The Republic Home Fleet consisted of two Venator-Class Star Destroyers, four Acclamator-Class Assault Ships, and a few outdated vessels; most of the Republic Navy was committed to the Outer Rim. The UNSC Battle Group was the largest Allied force currently at Triple Zero. Besides the Iowa-Class Battleship _North Dakota_, there were the two Marathon-Class Cruisers _Leviathan _and _Poseidon_, the Phoenix-Class Carrier _All Under Heaven_, the frigates _Gorgon, Midsummer Night, Adriatic, Tannenberg, Omaha _and _Carentan_, the destroyers _Iroquois, Apache, Navajo, Arapahoe, Bear River, Creek, Cayuga, Cherokee, Choctaw,_ and_ Coeur D'Alene_, and a few dozen corvettes: nineteen ships in all.

"We won't stop them from landing," said Mancuso. "We can't. Instead, we focus on inflicting as much damage on the bastards as we can until reinforcements arrive. All Allied boats should focus on the big ships. The Surface Defense towers planetside will deal with the landing craft."

Horatio's hologram appeared. "The Republic's AI isn't good enough to hit as many landing craft as they should."

"I know," said Mancuso. "That's why I'm sending you down there."

Horatio was visibly thrown. "But—but what about the ship?"

"If Captain Jacob Keyes could destroy three ships without an onboard AI, I can too." Mancuso was referring to the famous 'Keyes Loop' at Sigma Octanus IV, during the Covenant War; the maneuver had since become mandatory learning at OCS. "Don't worry, Horatio. I can handle the _Dakota_ with Wong here. And I have the backup AI. True, he's not as smart as you, but he can handle point defense as well as you can."

Horatio wasn't reassured. "You're not asking me to leave, are you?"

"No. I'm not."

"Alright. It's been some time since I transferred myself via COM arrays, but I can do it. Good luck, Captain. I hope to see you soon." Horatio's hologram disappeared.

Wong checked the status boards. "Well, Horatio's made it planetside, and shocked a few Republic AIs in the process. He's taken over the SD towers. Oh, and General Windu sent a transmission."

"Well?"

"All ground forces are mobilized and ready. Most GAR forces are clustered around 500 Republica and the Senate building is being jointly protected by clones and Marines. They have the manpower to deal with an invasion." Wong paused again; another text transmission came up. "Good news, Captain. Sierra-117 and his group are currently on Coruscant. The Open Circle Armada is on the way, as well as the 41st Legion."

"Who's closer?"

"The 41st. They'll be here in about forty-five minutes. The Open Circle is twenty minutes behind them."

"ETA until the CIS reaches us?"

"Half an hour."

Mancuso sighed. "Well, at least we can give them several flavors of pain before we die."

000

**1911 hrs, February 24****th**** 2558 (Military Calendar)/**

**Republic Commando Squads "Omega" and "Delta"**

**Corellia System, Corellia**

"That," said Scorch, "was satisfying." He gestured to a column of smoke in the distance, which was all that was left of a major Seperatist terrorist compound.

"I totally agree," said Darman. Both clones had an immense love of anything that exploded…as long as it didn't explode in their faces.

"Are you sure _I'm _the crazy one?" said Sev, looking up from his disassembled DC-17.

"There is no debate about that one, ner'vod," said Fi. "So you might as well stop asking."

"You're a barrel of laughs, Fi."

Fi grinned, although he knew Sev couldn't see his face through his visor. "I try."

"Stow it," said Boss, Delta Squad's CO. "You'd think this was a picnic, they way you keep jabbering on."

"Boss is right," said Niner, Omega's leader. "If Sergeant Skirata sees us, he'll have our skins."

"He's right," said Skirata, stepping out of a speeder. "I might need new clothes."

Fixer and Atin were fiddling with the speeder's computer. Delta's and Omega's tech junkies (respectively) were trying to configure the vehicle's COM system to receive long-range communications.

"Success!" said Fixer. "We work well together, Atin." The fact that Fixer had used Atin's name instead of his number was a sign of how happy he was.

"Uh, thanks," said Atin. He peered intently at the screen. "Whoa, receiving." He stared for a while. "Sergeant Kal, you might want to see this."

Skirata moved quickly to Atin's side. His limp was much less pronounced now. "Fierfek!" he said.

"What is it, Sarge?" asked Niner.

"The Seps are attacking Triple Zero in force. Almost all the di'kutla Republic Navy is in the Outer Rim. The UNSC commander at Coruscant just issued an order to drop everything and help defend the planet."

"How many ships do they have?" asked Ordo, coming out of nowhere as usual.

"Good guys: just shy of thirty. Baddies…well, they have thirty _battle groups_."

"What are we waiting for, then?"

000

**1201 hrs, February 24****th**** 2558 (Military Calendar)/**

**A Company, 115****th**** ODST Division/12****th**** Armored/ D Company, GAR 1****st**** Shock Trooper Legion JDF Base**

**Coruscant System, Coruscant**

The lines of droids seemed endless. Commander Thire (CC-4477) could barely hold them off, even with the added support of UNSC ODST Marine units and UNSC armor. In fact, the only thing that was stopping the wave of droids from overrunning his lines was the armor. The M808B Scorpion Main Battle Tanks and the A512D Rhino SPAs (Self-Propelled Artillery) were proving to be very effective at wiping out droid formations. UNSC weaponry like the Spartan Laser was also helping a lot; the hyper-accurate beams were perfect at taking out strafing Vulture fighters, droid gunships and enemy tanks. Overhead, mixed squadrons of FA/S117 Katana fighters and ARC-170 heavy fighters lead by Jedi in their Eta-2 Actis Interceptors harassed the large H-shaped dropships that were dropping off legions of droids, while UNSC A10-Hawkeye aircraft and AV-14 Hornets attacked unseen foes a few miles east.

"Commander Thire!" shouted the clone officer's UNSC ally, Major James Williams. "General Grievous just captured the Chancellor!"

"What!?" exclaimed Thire. "The Chancellor had four Jedi bodyguards and five squads to protect him!"

"Grievous wasted them. Blue Team is on his case, though."

"Blue Team?"

"Spartans, lead by Master Chief Sierra-117."

_Spartans_. Thire had heard only rumors of the capabilities of the UNSC's super-soldiers, some claiming they were better than ARC troopers. Thire found it hard to believe, but at least they were Special Forces, trained to handle difficult situations. "What now?"

"We'll have to fall back inside the Senate Building," said Williams. "Protect the Senators, and see whether we can evac them."

"Right." Thire gave the signal to fall back to the Senate Building. The structure's autoturrets would give them cover fire. But Thire wondered whether it was even worth it; it looked like he was going to die anyway.

"Heads up!" shouted a Marine. MA5C raised, the ODST let loose a sustained burst at a battle droid on a speeder. The vehicle crashed and exploded. If the Marine hadn't taken it out, Thire would have been dead.

"Thanks, troope—I mean, Marine," said Thire.

"No prob, Sir," replied the Marine. He looked up. "Holy shit…"

Thire looked up as well, and for the first time today felt hope about something.

Line after line of LAAT/i gunships soared down from the sky, raining hell and damnation on the droids behind Thire's forces. Clone troopers of the 41st Elite Legion fast-roped down, firing while still in the air. Thire's retreating forces did an about-face and fired on their pursuers. The droid forces were taken unawares by the sudden assault, and were wiped out by rocket volleys from the Allied forces.

Jedi General Etain Tur-Mukan jumped down in front of Thire, hefting an LJ-50 concussion rifle. "Looks like we arrive in time," said Etain.

"You have no idea, ma'am," said Williams. "We just about had it in for us when you arrived. But we failed."

"Failed?"

Thire spoke up. "I'm very sorry, ma'am. Chancellor Palpatine was captured by General Grievous himself. The Master Chief is after him, but I don't think he can rescue him."

Williams snorted. "I've seen Spartans in action, and I say that he _can_."

"Whatever your opinions," said Etain, "they don't matter now. We have a job to do."

Thire and Williams said "Yes ma'am!" simultaneously. She was right after all; more droids were marching towards them. It was going to be a long day.

000

The Master Chief Spartan-117 followed Kelly-087 as best as he could, with Fred and Linda right behind him. Kelly was the fastest Spartan, able to run at 62 kph. But even she was having trouble keeping up with General Grievous, who, unlike Spartans, was almost incapable of feeling exhaustion. The cyborg general leaped like a spider from rooftop to rooftop, wall to wall, seemingly unaffected by the weight of the trussed-up Chancellor on his back. The Chancellor, to his credit, didn't seem to be panicking.

"Chief," said Kelly, "without transport, we won't catch him. He's just too fast."

"Roger that." The Chief spotted a VAAT, a CSF incident support vehicle, hovering a few meters to his left. He patched into their COM. "CSF vehicle, this is Sierra-117, requesting transport."

The response came immediately. _"Affirmative, 117. Hop on at your leisure."_

The Spartans leaped aboard the VAAT. "Follow Grievous," said the Master Chief. "We need to catch him before he gets away with the Chancellor."

"You got it," the pilot replied. The VAAT zoomed after the fleeing shape of Grievous, now worryingly close to a CIS transport…and a lot of enemy anti-air.

Although well-made, the VAAT wasn't designed to operate as a combat vehicle. Apart from the mounted blasters on each side, she had no armaments and little armor…and even that armor was only supposed to withstand small-caliber blaster bolts and Verpine rounds. It soon started taking hits, and the VAAT lurched.

"Taking a lot of fire," said the pilot, his teeth gritted in pain as he strained to control his bird. "Can't…control…" a blaster bolt shattered the windshield, and the pilot didn't speak again. The VAAT swerved out of control before the craft's autopilot kicked in. The autopilot wasn't doing a better job of flying.

Fred, who was closest to the cockpit, looked in. "Pilot's dead." He tried manipulating the controls. "I can glide her down."

"Do it," said the Chief.

The VAAT didn't glide down. She dropped several feet, ramming a speeder-borne battle droid, and finally hit the ground, smashing through lines of battle droids.

Grievous, having already loaded his precious cargo, looked behind him. He growled, recalling perfectly his last encounter with Spartan-117. He longed to go after the super-soldier and finish him off, but he had his orders. The Chancellor had to be secured, and Dooku would not relax until Palpatine was on _Invisible Hand _and headed out-system.

Suddenly, he felt his chest-plate crushing in. Pain unlike anything he had recently experienced ravaged his body, and he cursed himself for not noticing Jedi Master Mace Windu joining the fray. He managed to close the shuttle's door. The Neimodian vessel lifted off.

As the Spartans watched the vessel disappear, Fred said, "What now?"

"We go after him," said the Chief.

A larty hovered alongside the Spartans, and promptly disgorged two Republic Commando teams. The Master Chief recognized Omega Squad immediately. The other squad was a riot of color that his HUD identified as 'Delta Squad'. "Master Chief," said Niner. "Good to see you sir."

"Likewise, Sergeant."

"What's the plan, sir?" said the orange-emblazoned leader of Delta Squad.

The Master Chief pointed at the dwindling shape of Grievous' shuttle. "See that ship?"

"Yes."

"We're gonna chase it."

00000


	3. Chapter 3: Invisible Hand

Chapter 3

Chapter 3: Invisible Hand

**A/N: I got the times wrong in the second chapter. I will correct that mistake later, though.**

**2011 hrs, February 24th 2558 (Military Calendar)/**  
**GAR Navy Open Circle Armada**  
**Coruscant System, Coruscant**

As the war above Coruscant raged, Grievous had to contend with the arrival of the Open Circle Armada, which was frustrating his efforts to abscond with the Chancellor. It would give the Republic and the UNSC enough time to rescue Palpatine.

Or, to be precise, enough time for two Jedi, two squads of commandos, and one team of Spartans to rescue the Chancellor.

"Master," said Jedi Knight Anakin Skywalker, "General Grievous' ship is dead ahead."

"_There are hundreds of command cruisers out there," _said Jedi Master Obi-Wan Kenobi. _"How do you know which one?"_

"Because, it's the one crawling with Vulture droids."

Anakin was right. The ship's surface was covered by Vulture droids in walking configuration. Upon seeing the approaching Jedi, a few peeled off to deal with the threat.

"_Incoming!" _said Obi-Wan. _"Four fighters!"_

"Four? That's insulting." He grinned. "Lunch says that I can destroy all of them in less than two seconds."

"_This isn't a game, Anakin—" _

Anakin triggered his laser cannons, jerking his control stick quickly. Before the droids could register the incoming fire, they were turned into expanding balls of flame. "You owe me lunch, Master." His grin grew wider as he heard Obi-Wan sigh explosively. His old master never could learn how to relax. R2D2, his astromech droid and—to Obi-Wan's consternation—good friend, whistled and beeped a message. By now, Anakin didn't need to look at his HUD to understand the droid's speech. "What's that, Artoo? A friendly transport? What would a transport be doing in the middle of a space battle?"

"_There it is," _said Obi-Wan. _"At eleven o'clock."_

"I see it," said Anakin. The now familiar profile of a UNSC Pelican appeared off to his front-left side, dodging hails of cannon fire from pursuing tri-droids. "I'll go and help him out." He swung after the Pelican.

"_Anakin! We have a mission!" _But the reckless Jedi and Kenobi's former Padawan had already gone after the Pelican. Kenobi switched off his COM and muttered, "Oh, I hate flying."

Anakin pinged the Pelican's COM. It was difficult to get a fix; the transport was making crazy and daring evasive maneuvers that Anakin respected as a fellow pilot. "He sure knows his stuff." Finally, he got a return ping. "Pelican transport, this is General Skywalker."

"_General," _came the confident, calm reply, _"This is Pelican Dropship Echo 247. If you can give us a hand…we'd be very grateful."_

"Understood, Echo 247." Anakin reached into the Force, inquiring gently as to what course of action he should take. "Prepare to break right on my command."

"_Sir?"_

"Now!"

Without any hesitation whatsoever, the Pelican banked sharply to the right...directly at a damaged CIS frigate. Anakin triggered his lasers at the tri-droids, whose electronic brains told them that the Pelican would crash and there was no need to go after it. Before they could do anything else, they were destroyed by Anakin.

The Pelican didn't have enough room to turn. The pilot surely thought he would crash…but the damaged frigate was suddenly ripped apart by a 1200 ton MAC round launched by the battleship _North Dakota_. The Pelican soared between the two halves of the ship, dodging debris and clearly not crashing. Anakin came alongside left of the transport, and Obi-Wan came moments later on the Pelican's right.

"Are you alright, Echo 247?" asked Anakin.

"_Yes Sir," _came the reply, still remarkably confident for a man who had been facing almost certain death. _"Sir, how did you know about the frigate? Did you coordinate with _North Dakota_?"_

"I used the Force," said Anakin.

"_Uh…copy that. Sir, our mission is to rescue the Chancellor. Can you provide escort?"_

Anakin looked at Obi-Wan. "Uh, yeah."

"_I didn't copy that, Sir."_

"That's affirmative," said Anakin. Obi-Wan was visibly exasperated. "We've come to rescue him too."

000

**The **_**North Dakota**_

"A Pelican?" repeated Mancuso. "What the hell is a Pelican doing in the middle of this shit?"

"Don't know, sir," said Wong, "But we have our own problems. We've lost two of our starboard turrets, and the main reactor is offline. Backup power's on, though. We have three 1200 ton rounds left, and nine 600 ton rounds for the guns on each side. No more missiles left, and ammo's nearly spent on the aft CIWS. As if that's not enough, we've got incoming hostiles at eleven-by two o' clock. We've lost the _Bear River _and the _Creek_, and _Poseidon_'s been disabled."

Mancuso stared at the TAC screen. "Direct _Gorgon_, _Adriatic_ and _Arapahoe _to cover our one-by-two o' clock. We can deal with the bastards in front. We may have lost three ships people, but we have not lost this battle. Let's do this thing!"

000

**The **_**Invisible Hand**_

The shield protecting the landing bay of the _Invisible Hand _suddenly disappeared as Anakin destroyed their generators. Escaping air rushed out, dragging droids and debris out with it. Blast doors came crashing down, but three ships came through just before the doors closed: two Eta-2 Actis Jedi Interceptors, and a D77H-TCI Pelican Dropship.

The three vessels made hard landings, skidding across the floor and making roadkill of several battle droids. Out leapt the warriors of the Republic and the UNSC: two Jedi, four Spartans and eight Republic Commandos. Blaster bolts flew everywhere.

Red needles of energy impacted impotently against the golden, shimmering shields of the Spartans. Fred hefted the Pelican's AIE-486H Heavy Machine Gun; its three barrels spun and spewed 7.62x51 mm Armor Piercing rounds at a rate of 1000 rounds per minute. Droids and their organic officers ("wets", as the Allies referred to them as) twisted like marionettes. Linda took down her targets with headshots from her beloved SRS99D-S2 AM Sniper Rifle, Kelly sprayed the area with her dual-wielded M7 SMGs, and the Master Chief used his favorite weapon, the durable and beloved workhorse for the Marines known as the MA5C Assault Rifle, with lethal results.

The commandos utilized their DC-17 ICWS (Inter-Changeable Weapons System) rifles with equal lethality. Accurate and devastating fire from the weapons' rifle, sniper and anti-armor configurations spelled the end of many droids. The commandos' wrist-mounted vibro-blades worked very well against the 'wet' officers.

The Jedi, however, outshone them all. Using acrobatics that could possibly only be matched by Spartans and utilizing Force techniques that were more devastating than anything that the Spartans or the commandos had in their arsenals, the famed team of Skywalker and Kenobi claimed more kills than the Spartans and the clones combined. And the Spartans alone had nearly forty kills.

Suddenly, the droids broke off their attack and disappeared into unknown places. Obi-Wan shut off his lightsaber and grimaced. "I hate it when they do that."

"Do what?" said Anakin.

"Disappear for no reason."

"There's always a reason, Master."

Obi-Wan nodded. "That's why I hate it." He acknowledged the Spartans and commandos. "Soldiers. Thank you for your assistance. You are very brave."

"Thank you, sir," said the Master Chief, answering for both the Spartans and commandos; after all, he was the ranking Special Forces NCO. "We don't have time to waste, sir. We need to get to the Chancellor."

"Agreed," said Anakin. "Artoo, patch into the ship's systems. Locate the Chancellor."

"_Hey," _said a female voice. _"That's my job."_

"Who was that?" said Obi-Wan.

"_AI Cortana, sir. Serial Number CTN 0452-9."_

"Ah." Obi-Wan wasn't sure how he could use another AI.

The Chief rescued his superior officer from further embarrassment. "Cortana, create ghost images of us in the enemy's surveillance systems. Confuse them. Oh, and disable their auto-turrets."

"You got it," said Cortana. She transferred herself into the ship's systems. "Hello, R2D2. You're a cute little midget robot, aren't you?"

Artoo whistled a response.

"You're rude, too."

"Cortana…" said the Chief, getting irritated.

"Already did what you wanted, Chief. There are currently twenty of us running around the ship, and a lot more enemy officers wondering what the hell is going on."

Anakin examined the holographic display of _Invisible Hand_, courtesy of R2D2. "The Chancellor is in the conning tower, in Grievous' Quarters."

"And the General himself?" asked Niner.

"In the bridge."

"Here's what we'll do," said Obi-Wan. "Anakin and I will rescue the Chancellor. The Spartans will protect our backs just in case the droids stumble on the real 'us'. The commandos will do everything in their power to harass this ship's internal systems, particularly the hyperspace drive."

"Meaning we can blow things apart?" asked Scorch.

"As long as you don't destroy the ship outright," said Obi-Wan, "while we're still on it."

"Roger that, sir," said Scorch.

"Let's go, then."

000

**Conning Tower, **_**Invisible Hand**_

Dooku knew something wasn't right. Years of delicate planning according to the Force had supposedly ensured his Master's inevitable victory, but Dooku sensed the subtle change in the Force. He did not know whether it was good or bad, but his Master did not seem to mind. Indeed, Chancellor Palpatine—whose real name was Darth Sidious—seemed to be enjoying his role as the hostage, perfectly relaxed as he sat bound to the General's chair, watching the raging battle beyond the transparisteel windows with the air of one watching a mildly interesting holovid.

"_Lord Dooku," _said General Grievous over the COM, _"We have intruders."_

"Good," said Dooku. "Drive the Jedi towards me."

"_Not just Jedi. Republic Commandos and Spartans super-soldiers as well."_

"Hm." It was an unexpected turn of events. "How many of each, and where are they?"

"_Uncertain. Our cameras are going haywire, showing them in multiple locations. We suspect they may have brought one of the UNSC's vaunted AI with them and inserted it into our systems."_

"We have enough droids," said Dooku. "Find them, hunt them down, then kill them. If you can, capture a Spartan; their shielding technology may come in useful for our own soldiers." The ship shuddered violently. "And might I suggest you concentrate on protecting this ship? Destroying this ship with me on it would put quite a cramp in the war effort, don't you think?"

"_Yes, Lord Dooku. Grievous out."_

Dooku watched the security monitors. As Grievous had said, there were multiple images of the intruders at different locations simultaneously. It was no concern; Dooku could feel the Jedi in the Force, and they were making a beeline for the conning tower. Everything was going according to plan now, and not even the UNSC's super-soldiers could stop him now.

000

**The **_**North Dakota**_

The arrival of the Open Circle Armada and the 41st Elite Legion had let off the pressure on Mancuso's battle group. Repair and refit crews made up of the nifty little Covenant Engineers—odd looking purple-pink creatures that floated around and had a knack of repairing things in an eyeblink—had restored the main reactor, the two turrets and the shield generator. Supply ships from the surface had provided more ammo and missiles for the battleship's weapons, and the _Dakota _was ready to get back into the fight.

"There she is, nine o'clock," said Lt. Com. Wong. "_Invisible Hand_."

"I have a targeting solution ready, Captain," said Lieutenant Ellie Pierce, Mancuso's weapon's officer. "We can send Grievous to hell whenever you want to."

"Belay that," said Mancuso. "Don't target _Invisible Hand_."

"Sir?"

"Old Palpy's on that boat," said Mancuso. "So are two commando teams, one Spartan team, and two Jedi generals. Grievous is safe from harm as long as they're on his ship."

"What can we do until then?" asked Wong.

"Prevent Grievous from rejoining his fleet, and vice versa. We can't let the bastard escape." Mancuso smiled suddenly. "However, there's nothing stopping us from knocking and saying hello." He nodded at Wong, who understood immediately.

"Helm," shouted Wong, "ninety degrees port, two degrees down-angle. Weapons, prepare portside gun batteries for broadside exchange."

"Aye sir," both officers said simultaneously. The _Dakota _rumbled as she turned. Soon, Grievous' flagship was off to the battleship's bow, and slightly to the left.

"Captain," said the officer at TAC 2, "RSD _Guarlara _is approaching the _Hand_'s portside. Her skipper seems to be thinking about a broadside exchange as well."

"COM 3," said Mancuso, "Contact _Guarlara_'s CO. I want to coordinate our assault."

The COM chirped as _Guarlara_'s CO responded. _"This is Captain Talbot."_

"This is Captain Mancuso of the UNSC _North Dakota_. Talbot, I want you to adjust speed so that we hit that son of a bitch at the same time."

"_Understood, Mancuso. Talbot out."_

000

_**Invisible Hand**_

Niner cursed rapidly as buzz droids danced around him and his squad, the little buggers trying to latch onto his armor and drill it. They only took a few shots to die, but they were numerous, and fast, and very, _very _annoying. Finally, the onslaught ended.

"Fierfek," said Fi. "I hope that's the last of them."

"You wish," said Darman. "Atin, are you done yet?"

"Yep," said Atin. "No force in the galaxy can help this rust-bucket into hyperspace. However, that means Grievous would be right pissed at us, and now he probably knows where we are."

"C'mon," said Fi, "how much worse can it get?"

The deck shuddered as two droids jumped down out of nowhere. They looked like Super Battle Droids at first, but they were much larger, bulkier, glowed blue, had _huge _claws, and were very scary.

"Grapple Droids!" shouted Niner.

"Fi," said Atin, "While we're on this ship, never say that again."

000

"_Delta lead, please come in."_

It was Niner, Boss knew. "This is Delta lead. What's up, Omega?"

"_Be advised, there are grappler droids present. They may know where we are."_

"You in trouble, Omega?"

"_Not anymore…wait one second." _There was the distinctive sound of a DC-17 going off. _"Now it's sorted. We've sabotaged the hyperdrive successfully. If Atin here's right, _Invisible Hand _will be stuck here for quite a while."_

"Good," said Boss. "We've disabled two of their heavy turrets. That should let off the pressure on the fleet."

"_I hope you didn't run into trouble like us."_

Boss stared around him; the floor was covered in dismantled, smoldering droid parts. "Oh, no trouble here. A 'cake-walk', as Sergeant Stacker says."

"_I'll bet. We're proceeding to the engine room. Omega lead out."_

"Sounds like Omega's having fun," said Scorch. "I think we finished this group off a little early. Should have left a few to stave off boredom while Fixer slices that door."

"This takes time," said Fixer, tapping rapidly on a console. "Requires more finesse than a loud bang."

"Sorry, 'finesse' isn't in my vernacular."

"Shut it," said Sev, watching Delta Squad's six with his Deece's sniper attachment. "I think I hear something."

"It's nothing," said Scorch. "Probably just the wind."

"First off, why would there be wind in a di'kutla _ship_? And when was the last time the wind said 'hostiles!' to you?"

Two droids appeared. But these weren't ordinary droids. They were man-high, nimble, had electro-staffs and, bizarrely, cloaks. They stared at the commandos with glowing red photoreceptors.

"Fierfek!" shouted Boss. "Delta Squad! Take out those Magna Guards!"

000

At the bottom of the conning tower, Blue Team was dealing with a veritable _horde _of droids, ranging from buzz droids to grappler droids, battle droids to _flying _droids that were equipped with Jackal-like arm-shields, and the extremely fast Magna Guards. The Spartans, however, did not give ground. They held off the enemy assault with skill that could only be learned over years of fighting, with armored fists, rockets, grenades and bullets, and the mighty Spartan Laser. Finally, Fred crushed in the head of a Magna Guard with his boot, ending the fight.

"That was fun," said Fred. He seemed to be trying to fill Will's place as the light-hearted member of the Spartans. But Will was gone; his body lay still at the core of the planet Onyx. "But why would they send this much firepower after _us_? Do you think they know what our plan is?"

"Well, they know we're not here to sell cookies," said Kelly. "So they know something's up."

"Or," said the Chief, "maybe they _do _know our plan. And the Generals might be going into a trap." He checked his rifle. "Blue Team, hold here. I'll be right back."

Before any of the Spartans could say anything, the Chief entered the elevator, and ascended into the conning tower.

00000


	4. Chapter 4: I Would Have Been Your Daddy

Chapter 4: I Would Have Been Your Daddy

**2047 hrs, February 24****th**** 2558 (Military Calendar)/**

_**Invisible Hand**_**, CIS Armada**

**Coruscant System, Coruscant**

The Master Chief waited impatiently as the lift ascended into the conning tower. It was patently ridiculous for such a structure to be on a ship, so vulnerable to enemy fire. Then again, megalomaniacs like Dooku and Grievous would like to feel above everything. The Chief thought so at least.

The lift doors opened, and for the first time since he entered this ship he was not greeted by volleys of red blaster fire. Instead, the wreckage of two Super Battle Droids littered the deck, and beyond, he saw General Skywalker literally disarm Dooku. The old man, to his credit, did not scream in pain. He fell to his knees, a look of surprise and fear covering his features. Skywalker discarded Dooku's blade and held his blue one to the defeated Sith Lord's neck.

Chancellor Palpatine, strapped to a chair, looked at the discarded lightsaber and frowned, as if something had happened that wasn't supposed to. But he gathered himself and said, "Good, Anakin! Good! I _knew _you could do it!" He looked at Dooku. "Kill him. Kill him now."

The Chief frowned. He had researched on the Jedi after his rescue and the Necropolis Incident, and he knew that Jedi would not execute defenseless men. The Chancellor knew what he was asking Anakin to do. But he could do something instead.

Anakin hesitated. When he looked down at Dooku, he did not see a Lord of the Sith anymore; he saw a beaten, broken, cringing old man in pain. "It is not the Jedi way."

The Chancellor's expression turned fierce. "Do it now!"

Anakin raised his blade—

_Blam!_

Dooku's head suddenly jerked sideways and he hit the deck, missing half of his head. Anakin jumped back, staring in horror at the blood, and looked for the source of the shot.

Master Chief Petty Officer John-117, codename Sierra-117, stood steady, holding a smoking M6G. He flicked the safety back on, holstered the weapon, and simply said, "Area secure, sir. All hostiles have been eliminated."

Palpatine stared at the Chief in blank surprise. "Well…thank you, soldier."

The Chief nodded. But Palpatine's sincerity did not fool him. He already had added the man to the list of people he did not trust. He motioned to Skywalker and said, "Sir, we'd better get moving."

"Yes," the young man said slowly. "Let's go." With a flick of his fingers the Chancellor's restraints popped open, and the old man stood up slowly.

The made for the stairs, but only went half-way before Anakin suddenly said, "Obi-Wan." He saw his master, buried underneath a collapsed platform.

"Leave him, Anakin," said the Chancellor. "There is not time. This whole spire may be about to break free—"

"Then we'll all be adrift together," said Anakin. "His fate will be the same as ours."

"I can help, sir," said the Master Chief. The Spartan strode to the platform, lifted it with one hand, and grabbed the unconscious Jedi with the other. He could easily hold the man. Hefting the Jedi Master over his shoulder, he said, "Let's move sir." He looked at Palpatine. "Try to keep up." He opened a COM frequency to the others. "Omega, Delta, Blue Team: rendezvous at the hangar for evac."

000

**Bridge, **_**Invisible Hand**_

General Grievous was not concerned, despite the approach of a Star Destroyer on his right and a UNSC battleship on his left. At least, he didn't _look_ concerned. There were a lot of emotions playing behind the fearsome mask. "Prepare gun batteries. Concentrate fire on _North Dakota_. Blast that hulk out of space, and we'll make a hyperspace jump through its wreckage."

"But—the forward towers are already _overloading_, sir." The senior gunnery officer was on the verge of panic. "They'll be a critical failure in less than a _minute_—"

"Burn them out."

"But sir, once they're gone—"

The rest of the senior gunnery officer's objection was lost in the wetly final crunching sound his face made under the impact of an armorplast fist. The same fist opened, seized a handful of the dead Neimodian officer's uniform, and yanked him out of the chair, ripping his seat-belt free with him.

Grievous turned to the junior gunnery officer. "Congratulations on your promotion. Take your post."

"Y-y-yes, sir." The newly promoted senior gunnery officer's hands shook so bad he could barely unbuckle himself, and his face had gone deathly pink, a bad sign for Neimodians.

"Do you understand your orders?"

"Y-y-y—"

"Do you have any objections?"

"N-n-n—"

"Very well then." Grievous was all flat, impenetrable calm. "Carry on."

"Sir?" said the COM officer in a quavering voice. "We are being hailed by _North Dakota_. They propose a cease-fire."

Grievous stared at the battleship. The UNSC vessel had halted just outside the _Hand_'s kill-zone, and so had RSD _Guarlara_. A pause in combat would allow the turbolasers to cool, and give the engineers a chance to repair the gravity generators. "Acknowledge receipt of transmission. Stand by to cease fire."

"Standing by, sir." The gunnery officer still had the shakes.

"Cease fire."

The constant shaking of the deck ceased. The enemy battleship was menacingly still, blocking Grievous' escape.

"Further transmission, sir. It's the battleship's commander."

"Initiate."

A ghostly image of a stocky man with close-cut hair appeared on the bridge's holo-tank. Grievous could see a leaf on each shoulder. Behind him, a taller, older looking man stood silently, his four brass bars and a single star denoting his rank as a Captain in the Navy.

The shorter man spoke first. _"General Grievous, I am Lieutenant Commander Jeffery Wong of UNSC _North Dakota_. At my request, my superiors have consented to offer you the chance to surrender your ship, sir."_

"Surrender?" Grievous scoffed. "Preposterous."

"_Please give this offer some consideration; it's a one-time offer. What about your crew?"_

"What about them? I couldn't care less."

"_Is this your final reply?"_

"Not at all." Grievous straightened up, adding a meter and a half to his already imposing height. "I have a counter-offer. Maintain your cease-fire, move your hulk out of the way, and withdraw to a minimum range of fifty kilometers until this ship achieves hyperspace jump."

"_Like you said, sir: preposterous. You didn't seriously think we'd do that, did you?"_

"Tell these _superiors_ of yours that if my demands are not met within ten minutes, I will personally disembowel the Chancellor, live on the HoloNet. Am I understood?"

Wong didn't flinch. _"Ah. The Chancellor _is _aboard your ship, then."_

"He is. Your pathetic rescue team has failed. They are all dead, and Palpatine remains in my hands."

Wong raised an eyebrow. _"Really?" _The skepticism was heavy. _"Then you will, of course, allow me to speak with him. To, ah, reassure my superiors that you are not simply—to put it charitably—bluffing?"_

"I would not lower myself to the likes of you." Grievous turned to the COM officer. "Patch in Count Dooku."

The officer frowned. "He's not responding, sir."

"Just _show _the Chancellor, then. Bring up my quarters on the security screen."

The security officer tapped a button, but then made a choking noise. "Hrm, sir?"

"What are you waiting for? Bring it up!"

"Perhaps you should see first, sir?"

The urgency in the officer's voice made Grievous move to his station. On the screen, he saw jumbled, lightsaber-sheared piles of wreckage…and no Chancellor.

And that—that there—that looked like it could have been a body lying in a pool of blood…

Draped in Dooku's signature cape.

Grievous turned back to Wong's image. "The Chancellor is…indisposed."

"_I see."_

Grievous suspected the young man saw entirely too well. "I _assure _you—"

"_I don't need your assurance. You have the same amount of time you offered us. Ten minutes from now, I will have confirmation of your surrender, or proof that the Chancellor is alive and well—and present—or your ship will be destroyed."_

"Wait—you can't simply—"

"_Ten minutes," _the enemy captain butted in, _"Or you can put you head in between your knees and kiss your shiny metal ass goodbye. I'm sure you're flexible enough to do it. Mancuso out."_

When grievous turned to the bridge security officer, his mask was as always expressionless, but he made up for it with the open murder in his voice. "Dooku is dead and the interlopers are loose. They have the Chancellor. Find them and bring them to me. FIND THEM!"

000

The Master Chief handed the unconscious Kenobi over to Anakin and swept the elevator lobby with his rifle. His Spartans were long gone, but they had left plenty of evidence that they had been here; the group had to pick their way past bullet-ridden droids. R2D2 tagged along, having manipulated the elevator controls.

"Blue Team, come in."

The COM crackled. _"Blue Two here," _replied Fred. _"We've made it to the hangar, but there are no flyable craft in here. Looks like this place took a direct hit. Awaiting orders."_

"Shit." He turned to Anakin. "Sir, are there any escape pods on this boat?"

"I should think so," said Anakin, "But they're located close to the bridge, and General Grievous is there."

"Well, that's good," said Palpatine. The Chief's visor hid his expressions, but he stared at Palpatine as if the man had lost it. "We can take out Grievous before we leave, and end this war once and for all."

"Negative," said the Chief. "Your safety is top priority, sir. Taking out Grievous should be a secondary consideration."

"Very well," said the Chancellor. But Anakin looked thoughtful.

"It is an opportunity we may not get again," said the young Jedi. "Grievous has a habit of escaping."

The Chief held back his frustration. "With respect, sir, we don't have to go after Grievous. Once we're off the ship, the Navy can destroy it. And we both have our orders, sir."

"He's right," said Obi-Wan suddenly. Anakin quickly put him on his feet.

"How long were you awake?" asked Anakin.

"Long enough." He dusted off his tunic. "I agree with the Master Chief's reasoning. Grievous is a secondary option. Right now, we have to get the Chancellor off this ship and back into Allied hands."

The Chief was relieved. Kenobi was the superior officer, and he had approved his plan.

Fred sounded impatient. _"Chief? What's our new orders?"_

"New objective," replied the Chief. "The bridge escape pods."

Before he could say anything else, Cortana said, "Bad news, Chief: they've managed to shut me out of the defensive systems. Auto-turrets won't work, but they still have—"

A shimmering box of energy surrounded the group. "Ray shields," said Anakin. "We're trapped."

"Cortana, get us out of here," said the Chief.

"I'll do my best, but you'll be stuck there for at least five minutes," replied the AI.

Obi-Wan stared down the hallway. "It appears we don't have five minutes." He was right.

Hatches opened, and they were suddenly surrounded by droids. A Magna Guard stepped forward and said, "Drop your weapons."

There was nothing else to do, so the Chief complied. But he had other plans, and they involved a lot of violence.

000

General Grievous cackled. "Ah, the bold rescuers. My pleasure to meet you, Kenobi the Negotiator. And you, Anakin Skywalker." He cocked his head. "I assumed you would be a little…older."

Anakin coolly replied, "General Grievous. You're shorter than I thought."

"We have a job to do, Anakin," whispered Obi-Wan. "Try not to upset him. Yet."

Grievous didn't give the Chancellor a glance. However, he looked at the Master Chief for a long time. "So, you are the famous Master Chief." He tapped his scorched chestplate, the mark of the Spartan Laser. "You gave me this souvenir. It would be rude if I did not give you one in return." He took out a lightsaber, the one he had confiscated from Kenobi. "Let us see how strong those shields are."

"That will not happen," said Obi-Wan suddenly. "I am in control here."

Grievous had to laugh at that. "And how is that?"

Before Obi-Wan had even whispered Artoo's name, the astromech suddenly fired an arc cutter at Grievous. The white hot spray blinded the General despite his reflexes, and he staggered back. The Jedi used the distraction to Force-pull their lightsabers, slicing through their restraints and the Chief's. The Spartan wasted no time, smashing two battle droids to a pulp and duel-wielding their blaster rifles. The bridge became engulfed by chaos as the two sides fought each other and Grievous wondered how he had lost the advantage so quickly. Then he noticed that a squadron of droidekas was forcing the group into a corner. Perhaps he could salvage this after all.

"Squad Two, keep up your attack," he said. "Squad Three, find the Chancellor and take him to my escape pod."

Suddenly the deck rocked. Grievous looked out the windows, and realized he had forgotten about _North Dakota _and _Guarlara_. His own ship buckled under the pressure, starting a dive that would intersect with the planet's surface in a very messy fashion.

The gravity generators cut out, and everything not bolted to the ground floated everywhere. The only two individuals not affected were Grievous and the Master Chief. But the bouncing droidekas had wasted their shields, so the total sum output of their generators was one large cloud of smoke. Within seconds, Squad Two was nothing. Worse yet, two commando squads and three more Spartans dashed into the bridge as the gravity regenerated, cutting him off from retreat…or so they thought.

Grievous picked up an electrostaff and powered it up to the max. He raised it and said, "You lose, Jedi!" and hurled it at a window.

The effect was instantaneous. The Jedi's Force-assisted leaps became wild scrambles for handholds as the atmosphere rushed out. Grievous allowed himself to be carried by the gale, and used his magnetic feet to latch onto the hull. From there, he walked carefully to the escape pod area, accessed it from the _outside_, sat inside, and punched a few buttons. "Time to abandon ship," he rermarked.

Not only was his escape pod jettisoned, but _all _the pods. The empty pods would deny the interlopers escape and distract the Allied fighters. His own pod streaked towards a ship already primed for jump, leaving _Invisible Hand_—and her new passengers—to plunge in a death-dive towards Coruscant.

00000


	5. Chapter 5: Once again, with feeling

Chapter 5: Once Again, With Feeling

**2200 hrs, February 24th 2558 (Military Calendar)/**  
_**Invisible Hand**_**, CIS Armada**  
**Coruscant System, Coruscant**

The once-mighty Providence-Class Carrier/Cruiser's metal joints groaned as it nosed down into the atmosphere. The nose started glowing cherry-red as friction began to eat away at the superstructure.

Inside, the air was tense. "No more escape pods," Atin reported. "Grievous ejected all of them."

"The way to the hangar is blocked by wreckage," said Fixer. "Even if we could have made it there, there's nothing we can actually fly."

"We can't escape," said Fi slowly. "Well, we've been there before."

"And we can get out of here safely too," said Anakin. He removed the dead helmsman from his seat and sat down, manipulating controls.

"You can land this thing?" the Chief said.

"Impossible," said Scorch.

"I can," said Cortana.

"So can I," said Anakin. He offered a crooked smile. "After all, I _am _the best pilot in the galaxy."

Atin started muttering, "Don't say it, don't say it, don't say it…"

"Besides," continued Anakin, "what else could go wrong?"

"Osik."

The expletive was justified. The entire ship rumbled, then shook like a thing possessed. There was a ear-wrenching screech of tearing metal, a sudden weightlessness, and everyone not sitting was tossed to the ground.

"I think we lost something," said Anakin, unperturbed.

"Don't worry," said Obi-Wan, equally calm. "We _are _still flying half a ship."

Fred opened up a private com channel to Kelly. "I don't know about you, but I think these guys are bat-shit crazy."

000

**UNSC **_**North Dakota**_

"General Yoda, sir," said Captain Mancuso, "their transponder signals check out. They have the Chancellor, repeat, Chancellor is secure. Please order the Surface Defense towers to cease fire on _Invisible Hand_."

"_Heard and understood, is this," _answered the tiny old Jedi Master. _"Order them to stand down, I already have. Direct them to special landing platform, we will."_

Mancuso found the creature's backwards-talk slightly frustrating, as he couldn't always tell whether Yoda was issuing an order or not. But there was no doubting that the Jedi Master was a highly valuable asset. Not many could claim to have centuries of experience.

But no amount of experience could save the rescue team or its precious cargo on the fatally wounded CIS ship. Even as Mancuso watched, stunned, the ship split in half just in front of the bulbous hangar area. Astonishingly, the front half of the ship _flew_, controlled by control surfaces and micro thrusters usually used to maneuver the ship into dock. Whoever was flying that thing knew his stuff.

Mancuso was not a church-going man, but he found himself praying to…someone…that when death came to take the lives of those brave men, that the end would be painless.

"Sir," said Lt. Com. Wong, "New contact, Slipping in. Covenant cruiser. The Arbiter's ship, _Redemption_."

The voice of the Arbiter boomed through the COM. _"Though I have arrived late, still our effort will not be in vain."_

Mancuso gaped as the cruiser maneuvered like a fighter through the Allied formations and the wrecks of hundreds of ships. It came alongside the bow section of _Invisible Hand _and activated its gravity lift. "Holy crap. They're trying to slow it down."

"Looks like its working," said Wong. "At this rate, they can make a controlled crash. Let's hope they make it."

000

**2256 hrs, February 24****th**** 2558 (Military Calendar)/  
Landing strip IZ-3244, Industrial Zone  
Coruscant System, Coruscant**

Escorted by Allied fighters, Coruscant Fire Department vessels, and a CCS-Class Covenant cruiser, what remained of _Invisible Hand _crashed on a specially hardened platform. The control tower, which had been luckily evacuated, was clipped by the ship and collapsed like a deck of cards. The wreck traced a large scorch mark across the tarmac before coming to a complete stop.

In the bridge, Obi-Wan panted for a few seconds before smiling. "Another happy landing."

Underneath a fallen panel, Sev's arm could be seen, and he was not amused. "You're all insane."

000

Kal Skirata was among the first to be on the scene. In fact, he had insisted to be on the same LAAT/i that High General Mace Windu was on. It wasn't an especially comforting trip, because Windu did not approve of Skirata and the Mandalorian Sergeant could not forget that this was the man who made Boba Fett an orphan and killed one of the greatest Mandalorians who ever lived. But Windu, like most Jedi, liked to put pragmatism before anything else, something that Skirata respected.

Behind the gunship, a Pelican carrying a few high-ranking ONI officers flew low, landing before the larty. Another Pelican with a full team of combat medics and a set-up for a field surgery landed right next to the larty. They had to be prepared for anything.

Skirata, for his part, didn't give a mott's ass about the safety of the Chancellor. He was glad to see both Omega and Delta looking completely fine. The combat medics talked briefly to the commandos, and one took a look at Sev while the others rushed to the Chancellor. Behind the commandos came Spartans. It was Kal's first time meeting them face-to-face, and to his surprise they looked every bit the HoloNet heroes the media made them out to be.

"Hello, Sarge," said Fi with a wide grin. "We missed you."

"Yeah," said Darman. "It's a laugh a minute, this job."

Skirata looked at the altercation between the UNSC medic and Sev. "Looks like Sev is a fan of the Marines."

"I'm not asking you," said the medic clearly to Sev. "I'm _telling _you to show me the wound."

"And _I _told you I'm _fine_," said Sev, clearly irritated.

The medic was none too impressed; he had probably heard this excuse hundreds of time. "You soldier, me medic. Understand the difference, ya moron? Now, _show me the goddamn wound_!"

"Or what?"

"Or I'll shove my boot up your ass."

Two Marines watching the exchange laughed. "Ain't that cute," said one.

"Yeah," said the other. "Like two assholes on their first date."

"Sev is extremely good at making friends," said Fi. "Too bad most of them are dead."

Skirata laughed with the commandos, despite sensing the fatal realism behind most of Fi's wise-cracks. Then he looked at the Spartans, who appeared to be having an intense conversation with the ONI officers. "These Spartans…are they as good as people say they are?"

"Even better," said Boss. "You haven't seen them fight."

"Who's their CO?"

"Him," said Fi, pointing at John. "Master Chief Spartan-117. Not very talkative, but he likes taking apart droids. And anything else that shoots at him. Pretty smart, too."

It took Skirata a while to realize that the Master Chief outranked him. Although Skirata didn't care for rank, from what Ordo had told him, the Master Chief cared a lot about it, enough to stand up to Ordo. It would take a lot of effort for the Chief to try and exert his authority over Skirata, but the sergeant perceived that the Spartan wouldn't be dissuaded by that. "I'll have Ordo check him out."

"Chancellor Palpatine," said Master Windu. "I hope you aren't hurt."

"No, I'm fine," said the Chancellor. "Thanks to the rescue team." He smiled at Anakin.

Mace did not like that smile; the Chancellor exerted too much influence over Skywalker. "Kenobi? Skywalker? Are either of you hurt? There is a field team of medics."

"No," said Obi-Wan. "Just a nasty bump. That medic team must be needed elsewhere."

"It is," said Mace grimly. "We don't even have a preliminary estimate of civilian casualties, let alone military."

The UNSC medic team boarded their gunship. The medic who had tended to Sev paused to give the commando the middle finger before boarding, and the Pelican roared into the darkening sky.

"A shuttle is on its way, Chancellor," said Mace. "I've already informed the Senate and the HoloNet that you will want to make a statement."

"I will indeed," said the Chancellor. "You have always been of great value to me, Master Windu."

"The Jedi are honored to serve the Senate, sir." There was just a bit of emphasis on _Senate_. As the Chancellor prepared to leave, Mace turned to Kenobi. "Is there anything else to report? What of General Grievous?"

"Count Dooku was there," said Anakin suddenly. "He's dead now."

"Dead?" Mace looked from one Jedi to the other. "You killed Count Dooku?"

"I didn't," said Obi-Wan. "I was…taking a nap."

"I didn't kill him, either," said Anakin. "I defeated him, but one of the soldiers with us shot him."

"But…" Mace blinked. Dooku was to the CIS what Palpatine was to the Republic. Dooku had bound the CIS together. Without him, it would fly apart in week. "This is the best news I've heard in…well, since this war began. Without Dooku, the CIS is extremely vulnerable. We can _win _this war, and most importantly, end this bloodshed."

"Not with Grievous as the Seperatist leader," said Palpatine. "Dooku was the only thing controlling him, but now he has been unleashed. I fear this war will get worse before it gets better."

"Then we will make capturing Grievous our top priority. This war has gone far enough."

The Chancellor's shuttle left, and the ONI officials left after him, with the Spartans in tow. Like the Grand Army, there was almost no rest or relaxation for the Spartans. Skirata understood it well. He was also interested in the tension between the Chancellor and the Jedi. It would make for an interesting conclusion. "Ordo? You have that info yet?"

Ordo's voice sounded tight. _"Yes. Barely. Their AIs are extremely good at detection. Not to mention that they usually run capital ships when they aren't guarding top-secret information. They've already traced my location. I'll have to make this quick before a NAVSPECWAR team crashes in here and ruins my day."_

Skirata frowned. NAVSPECWAR troopers belonged to the same ONI Section 3 subsection that ran the Spartans (although they were used by all four branches). Although not as good as Spartans, they were extremely tough; Ordo even declared them better than commandos, and the four-man squads they traveled in could eventually overwhelm even a Null-Class ARC trooper. If they were involved, the info that Ordo had stole had to be juicy. "Tell me."

Ordo sounded out of breath; he was obviously running, and Skirata could hear several pairs of combat boots in the background._ "Alright. About forty-one years ago, ONI embarked on a super-soldier program in order to deal with some rebellion in their outer colonies. They kidnapped around seventy-five six-year-old kids according to a very specific genetic screening program. They were trained to be the best of the best, outperforming the elite ODST units by a large margin before they were even teenagers. Then ONI accelerated the program. The kids were 'enhanced' through surgery. Thirty died during surgery, and another twelve were crippled irreversibly. The remaining thirty-three were still the best, in more ways than just training. They were the UNSC's best bet against the Covenant during their war. Over a course of twenty-seven years they've been reduced to five active members. That's all I could get. Sorry, Kal'buir."_

"It's alright, son. I'll see you later." He shut off the comlink and prayed that the NAVSPECWAR troopers didn't catch up to the ARC Captain. He pondered the info that he had just gotten. _Interesting. And I though Kaminoans were nasty._ Then he retracted that thought. He had heard enough stories about the Covenant War to know that the UNSC was on the brink of total destruction at the end of that war. Desperate times often called for desperate measures. Still, separating kids from their families at a time when they were already attached was despicable. There were hut'uune all over the galaxy, it seemed. "Ordo? You still there?"

"_Ow! Son of a BITCH…!"_

"Ordo?"

"_Sorry, Kal'buir. That wasn't me. Those Navy kids are pretty good, but they can't take me one-on-one."_

"I hope you aren't too busy."

There was another 'Ow!' in the background. _"I'm fine now."_

"Good. I want you to collect Jaing and Mereel and do a little investigating on the Chancellor. Collect a little dirt on him."

"_Can I ask why?"_

"I've become very interested in the tension between old Palpy and the Mystic Mob. Something's about to go down. Public opinion of the Jedi has been going down for years now, and I think that's no coincidence."

"_That's normal. Opinion on public figures usually drops during wars."_

"Exactly. So why do people hate Jedi and not politicians like Palpatine? The arutiise love him."

"_True…"_

"And our greasy friend Mar Rugeyan recently confided to me that actions have been taken to ensure the Chancellor stays in power as long as the war lasts. He's beginning to look more like an Emperor and less like a Chancellor."

"_There's also that strange business about former Chancellor Valorum. Ousted by Queen Amidala at the behest of Palpatine, replaced by Palpatine, and possibly…"_

"Yeah. Died in a CIS terror attack. But we don't think that anymore, do we?"

"_No, Kal'buir. We'll start with Valorum then. It'll be sticky, though."_

"Why's that?"

"_When I hacked into ONI's mainframe, I discovered that they're doing their own little investigation on Valorum. Hard to believe, but they're a few steps ahead of us. If they discover that we're treading on their turf, it's going to get real messy, real fast."_

"Tread lightly, then. Try not to interfere with them; they might do all of our work for us. And maybe we can offer our help later on."

"_Is that wise?"_

Kal knew Ordo trusted him implicitly, so this question was very indicative of his hesitation. "I'm not sure, but I think ONI is aiming for the same target as we are."

"_And what target is that?"_

"We'll find out."

000

**0231 hrs, February 26****th**** 2558 (Military Calendar)/  
UNSC **_**Event Horizon  
**_**(CLASSIFIED! BGX Directive), (CLASSIFIED! BGX Directive) System**

_Event Horizon _was one of a pair of unique vessels. Like its sister ship, _Point of No Return_, _Event Horizon _was a prowler the size of a destroyer and functioned as a mobile base for ONI. But unlike _Point of No Return_, her existence wasn't known even to Admiral Gibson, the head of ONI. _Event Horizon _was made solely for the use of Subdivision Beta-7, Section 1, an ultra-secret group whose existence wasn't even myth. As far as anyone knew, there was no such thing as Beta-7 or _Event Horizon_.

Captain Candice Takashi was the head of Beta-7. Most saw her as just another example of ONI trying to use sex to try and get people to enroll into the agency. As far as Takashi was concerned, she didn't care. In fact, she promoted that image, knowing that it's the people you least suspect that turn out to be the best agents, a fact that she learned from her handler, who happened to be a high school grammar teacher whenever he wasn't putting a bullet into the back of someone's head. Takashi, however, was one of ONI's most dangerous agents, and perhaps the most cunning.

Takashi looked at each member of Beta-7. Aside from _Event Horizon_'s crew and Takashi herself, Beta-7 consisted of only six people. Lieutenant (JG) Sean Kirkpatrick, Lieutenant Ben Forrestal, MCPO Jack Clyde, CPO Fred Ortega, CPO Ann Harper, and CPO Frank Hartman. All were the best at what they did, and all of them looked nervous. "I think we know why we're all here, right?"

"To look into Palpatine," replied Clyde. "I though Section 1 was already doing something about that."

"Yes, they are," said Takashi. "However, they've hit a snag."

"Snag?" For intelligence agencies, the word 'snag' was supercharged with meaning.

Forrestal spoke up. "Two days ago, someone hacked into ONI's mainframe. That's not something a novice does. Whoever it was went after Section 3's files on the SPARTAN project, but he also looked into the file on the Valorum investigation."

"Shit," said Kirkpatrick. "Was it those Covert Ops clones?" The Covert Ops Clone Troopers were clones that did GAR Intelligence's dirty work, and there were rumors that at least a few reported directly to Palpatine's office.

"Don't know," said Forrestal. "Section 3 traced the hack immediately, and they sent a NAVSPECWAR squad to deal with the threat. They caught up with the guy, but they weren't able to get him. One NAVSPECWAR trooper was injured when he went ahead and went one-on-one with the perp. Helmet cam confirms it was a clone."

"I analyzed the video," said Ortega. "The clone's fighting skills were too good for a Covert Ops trooper. He's probably an ARC trooper."

"Null, or Alpha?" asked Clyde.

"I don't have definitive proof," said Harper, "But I'm pretty sure it's a Null. All of the Alphas have been deployed to the Outer Rim Sieges. The only reason they'd be here would be to recuperate, and we already have an eye on those. Which means our good buddy Kal Skirata is making his boys fish for information."

Takashi looked at Hartman. "What are we doing about that, Frank?"

"I've put 24/7 surveillance on Skirata and his Nulls," said Hartman. "Easy to do, since I just have to use Section 1's own surveillance of those guys. If they sneeze, we'll be the first to know it."

"OK, then." She looked at Clyde. "What do you have on the Valorum case?"

"We've identified the assassin," said Clyde. "An Anzati woman called Salje Tasha. Used to work for the Dark Jedi Sora Bulq. Disappeared after she came into contact with Quinlan Vos." Vos was a Jedi who had gone further undercover than any other Jedi before, and was the Jedi Council's version of a field agent. "I found her on some damned muckhole called Nar Shadaa. Didn't go up to her, though."

"Can you confirm that she's still there?"

"Yes."

"Good." She turned to Kirkpatrick. "Sean, I want you to have a little chat with Tasha. Think you can handle her?"

Kirkpatrick smiled. Besides being one of the best trackers and intelligence gatherers, he was an expert in hand-to-hand combat and martial arts, and had an uncanny ability to interrogate people on the fly. "Yes, ma'am. I'll do it."

"Jack, support Sean while he goes after Tasha."

"Will do," said Clyde.

"Frank, keep a close eye on Skirata."

"Sure thing," replied Hartman.

"Harper, monitor GAR Intelligence's database. Make sure they have no idea what's going on."

"I'll do it," said Harper. "I might need an AI, though."

"You'll have one. Ortega, make sure the Jedi know nothing about our investigation. Especially Skywalker. Ann, if either you or Fred need someone erased, Alpha Squad from NAVSPECWAR will be on standby."

"Got it," said Fred.

"I know that you already understand this," said Takashi, "But I'll say it one more time. There is no chain of command beyond me. You report to me and no one else: not Section 1, not Gibson, not Hood, and most certainly not to the GAR. We do not exist. Are we clear on that?"

"Yes ma'am!" they chorused.

"Good. We start now."

00000


	6. Chapter 6: Patriot Games

Chapter 6: Patriot Games

**2347 hrs, March 2****nd**** 2558 (Military Calendar)/**

**UNSCEC HQ (5 miles from Arca Company Barracks)**

**Coruscant System, Coruscant**

"Doing well, your home world is?" said Jedi Master Yoda.

"Yes," replied Vice Admiral Vasily Borodin. "The Mandalorians landed few troops. Most didn't make it through the Martian perimeter. Those that did suffered more loss from the orbital defenses, and those that managed to land were wiped out in short order."

"Unnecessary, that was."

Borodin sighed. "They refused to surrender. If we could have taken them alive, we would have. We've seen enough of war. You know what our story is."

"Know it well, I do." Yoda had visited Earth after the UNSC joined the war. The echoes of suffering from the Covenant occupation had given him bad dreams. "Grateful for your assistance, the Republic is."

"Thank you, sir." Borodin took out a datapad. "And now, to business. The CIS has attacked Kashyyyk again. They've made significant gains. Republic forces are too spread thin, and most UNSCEC assets are too. Yet we may have enough force to at least hold off the CIS from Kachiro." Kachiro was the capital city of the Wookiee home world.

"41st Legion units deployed to Kashyyyk, I have," said Yoda. "501st units deployed as well. Enough to stop the tide, that may not be. A Jedi, they need."

The rest of the Jedi Council was present via hologram, as was its not-so-welcome member, Anakin Skywalker. _"I'll go," _said the young Jedi. _"I know the Kashyyyk system like the back of my hand."_

Yoda continued as if Skywalker hadn't spoken. "Good relations with the Wookiees, I have."

"_Then we are agreed," _said Mace Windu. _"Master Yoda shall go to Kashyyyk, and Master Kenobi shall go to Utapau to confirm the rumors of Grievous' presence there."_

"No," said Borodin. Now he had to carry out his orders as laid out specifically by Fleet Admiral Hood. "General Skywalker does know the Kashyyyk System well. We need a leader like that to lead the 82nd ODSTs."

"_We believe that Skywalker's talents would be best served here."_

"Are you kidding? He's one of the best known and most effective commanders in the Republic. His talents would be squandered here."

"_This is an internal matter of the Jedi."_

"Fleet Admiral Hood disagrees. By taking leadership of the GAR, whether voluntary or not, you are military officers. You have to obey the chain of command. And Fleet Admiral Hood outranks you."

Mace Windu looked resigned. _"Very well. Skywalker shall be deployed to Kashyyyk." _

"That is all, gentlemen," said Borodin. "This meeting is adjourned."

Yoda looked at Borodin. "What is going on, Admiral?"

"I know even less than you do." It was the answer Hood had given to him, and it disturbed Borodin that the highest ranking officer in the UNSC had no idea what was going on.

000

**0012 hrs, March 8****th**** 2558 (Military Calendar)/**

**Y'Toub System, Nal Hutta, Nar Shaddaa**

Nar Shaddaa was a moon of the Hutt home world Nal Hutta. It was also called 'Little Coruscant' because the entire surface was covered in city. It was also covered in crime. It was hypothesized that almost a quarter of the murders that happened in the system happened on Nar Shadda. It was also one of the biggest hubs for prostitution, slavery and illegal trade in everything from spices to monsters to military-grade weapons. Needless to say, the Allies didn't like it; it was easy for Seperatist terror groups to get equipment. The UNSC was preparing for a huge offensive strike against the moon, and there was already a tense diplomatic war of words between the Hutts and the UN.

The preparation for Operation: CLEANSWEEP entailed significant reconnaissance involving up to three hundred agents and NAVSPECWAR squads working in different capacities. So it was little surprise to the Allies when Lieutenant (JG) Sean Kirkpatrick landed on the moon to gather intelligence.

Kirkpatrick was the perfect agent. He was neither too short nor too tall. He wasn't ugly or overly handsome. He piloted a piece-of-junk YT-1300 Corellian freighter that Beta-7 had somehow procured. To the untrained eye, he was just another smuggler/bounty hunter/general low-life that frequented Nar Shaddaa. No one paid attention to him. It made his job that much easier.

Salje Tasha's last known location was a rundown hotel in the deepest layers of the city-moon. Clyde confirmed she was still there. Without prompt, Kirkpatrick bought a room that was close to hers, and made his way up the winding stairs. When he reached the floor, he unholstered a special weapon made for jobs like this: the S6 pistol with silencer and optional attachment. The optional attachment in this case was a one-shot narq-dart mini-pistol that was attached just below the barrel. The dart was guaranteed to knock out anything smaller than an elephant for the better part of eight hours. In this case, Kirkpatrick had put enough tranquilizer to put a humanoid to sleep for half an hour; he wasn't going to wait eight hours to interrogate her.

He kicked down the door. Then everything happened at a lightning pace.

There was a flash of something metallic, and Sean instinctively ducked. It saved his life; the large knife sailed over his head and embedded itself into the wall with a _thunk!_ sound. He returned fire, and the .22 round hit something that yelled. The round had to be small, otherwise the silencer was useless. It was fine when you needed only one shot, but Sean wasn't in that kind of situation.

The target was a bone-white woman. She held a blaster in one hand, and she was definitely a veteran fighter. Sean, who had trained extensively in capoeira, hoped that he was skilled enough to both capture her _and _prevent her from firing the blaster.

Lightning fast, he snapped the S6 up and fired a single, well-placed round into Tasha's wrist. The tendons in her right hand now useless, the assassin tried to perform a poor highway man's shift: switching the weapon from one hand to another. It was a bad mistake. Kirkpatrick punished her by firing the narq-dart into her throat, and delivered a kick for good measure.

Tasha immediately collapsed to the floor.

Kirkpatrick spent the next half hour trussing her up in a chair. Then he used sound dampening equipment to make sure no noises were heard. He sat in front of her, and right on schedule she woke up. "Who are you?" she asked.

"I'm someone like you," Sean replied. "Sorry. I'm not good at table conversation."

"You want information."

"About Valorum."

She smiled. "Yes. I killed him."

"I know that. On whose orders, though? Bulq?"

Tasha glared at him. "I cannot tell you that."

There were several methods to make even the most resilient person talk. After Kirkpatrick used just one, he said, "Again. On whose orders did you kill Valorum?"

"Senator Viento," came the prompt reply.

Sean nearly smiled. It was amazing at how fast the answers came after sufficient motivation. "Who else?"

"Sora Bulq."

"And who gave him the order?"

"I will not say."

Sean got up again. "Wrong answer."

000

**0900 hrs, March 12****th**** 2558 (Military Calendar)/**

**UNSC Navy BBBG-Class Battle Group 'Tango'**

**Kashyyyk System, Kashyyyk**

The view from the bridge of the UNSC battleship _Iowa_ (BB-01), Anakin had to admit, was spectacular. In vacuum, the field of stars in outer space was much more vivid than when viewed from a planet's surface. It was beautiful.

Then the ship turned to starboard, and the beauty was gone, replaced by a ferocious battle between the CIS and the smaller Republic fleet. The Republic was standing its ground, unwilling to cede the planet to the Seperatists, and the CIS was equally unwilling to give up the Wookiee home world.

Rear Admiral Patrick Miller nodded appreciatively. "Those Republic boys are doing a damn fine job," he said. "Who's leading them?"

"Admiral Adar Tallon," said Anakin. "He's a well respected officer in the Republic Navy."

Miller nodded again. "I thought so. Met him once. Nice guy." He looked at Anakin. "How about we give him a hand?"

"Absolutely."

"All ships to combat alert ALPHA," said Miller. "We're going in. Pick your targets and go." The bridge lights darkened to a red hue. Miller turned to Anakin. "You can't leave the bridge yet, son; we're in lockdown. But once we break through, you'd best be prepared to land the troops."

"I understand," said Anakin.

"I hope so," said Miller. "Have you ever ridden in an HEV pod?"

"No." While Anakin had heard about the elite ODST units dropping out of the sky in small pods, he had never actually seen it firsthand, let alone experience it.

"Well, let me just say it's gonna be one hell of a ride."

Anakin briefly reached out to Padme through the Force, just to let her know that he was thinking of her. Then he contacted Yoda. "How is the situation on the ground, Master Yoda?"

Yoda sounded grim. _"Terrible casualties we have sustained. Need immediate assistance we do. Arriving soon, you are?"_

"We need to break through the CIS forces, Master." Anakin looked out of the bridge viewports again. The CIS fleet was much closer now.

"_Assist our forces, you can. Use the Force to inspire their confidence."_

"Yes Master. I will." The transmission was cut off. Anakin, however, had other ideas as to how he would help. He turned to Miller. "Admiral? Which hangar is my starfighter kept in?"

000

**1200 hrs, March 12****th**** 2558 (Military Calendar)/**

**Pelican Dropship Victor-482 **

**Sigma Octanus System, Sigma Octanus IV**

It was a testament to the amount of trust between the GAR and the UNSC; never before had a Republic military unit operated so deep in UNSC territory. There was a limit to that trust, however. Sharing the cramped interior of the Pelican with Omega Squad was a NAVSPECWAR team called Victor Squad. The Navy team's leader, Lieutenant Price, was heading the mission. Niner studied the man intently. Price's file indicated that he had been in over fifty operations. He had a funny-looking moustache that seemed to blend with his sideburns, but there was nothing about Price that was remotely funny. He was a hardened veteran, and it showed in the disdainful expression he gave to Niner; obviously he thought the commandos a bunch of kids.

Outside, it was raining hard over the Eastern Ocean, east of what had once been the city of Cote d'Azur. It, and an entire Covenant invasion force, had been wiped out by a HAVOC nuke placed by SPARTAN Blue Team six years before, but Insurrectionist elements had snuck back and established a large terrorist training camp. It had been determined that a great many of the terrorist attacks that had been occurring with alarming frequency in both UNSC and Republic space had originated in this camp. ODSTs were preparing to deal with the camp. Omega and Victor, however, were heading in the completely opposite direction to deal with another target: a sea-going cargo ship that was a floating armory for the terrorists.

"Here's our target," said Price, activating a hologram of a typical civilian cargo ship. "Civilian Registration C472. There is a small security force on board, plus crew. We're going after a package that the Innies shouldn't have: a FENRIS nuke. We're to secure the package and obtain any valuable intel. If we cannot secure the package, we are to sink this ship."

"Sir," said Niner. "What are the Rules of Engagement, sir?"

"Crew expendable."

"Almost feel sorry for them," said a Navy trooper. "But that's what you get for associating yourself with terrorists."

"_We're coming up on the target now," _said the Pelican pilot over the intercom. _"Standby. Lowering ramp."_

The rear door opened, and Niner was immediately assailed by rain. It reminded him of Kamino. He didn't like that. He could see the deck of the ship in question roiling in the stormy seas, and struggling to maintain their footing were a few men. Some had weapons, but none of them were pointed at the Pelican; the dropship was running dark, with no running lights on. The gunmetal green transport blended perfectly in the stormy night sky, and the roar of the Pelican's engines was drowned out by the storm. The terrorists had no idea that their lives were about to get short and exciting.

The dropship moved to the bow. Ropes dropped, and Omega rappelled down with Price's 'Go go go!' command. There were a few men in the forward observation post. They noticed nothing…until a flash of lightning revealed the silhouettes of four commandos.

The commandos opened fire. They fired with impressive accuracy; one round per man was all it took. "Forward area secure," said Niner.

"_Good job, mate," _said Price. _"Secure the middle deck."_

There were only two men in the middle, and the commandos knifed them both. "Almost too easy," remarked Fi. "Middle area secure."

"_Well done," _said Price. Using night vision, Niner could make out the Pelican above him, and a rope dangled down from the transport. _"Heads up: friendlies on your six."_

The four NAVSPECWAR operatives fast-roped to the deck. With both areas secure, there was now enough room for both squads. "Move up, three meter spread," said Price. "Go."

They had barely made it ten meters when gunfire erupted all around them. Price shouted to take cover, but it wasn't necessary; all eight men had already done so. "Can't get a clear shot," said Darman. "They're alternating fire, pinning us down."

"I noticed," said Price dryly. "Wallcroft, Abbot, cover our backs in case the Innies try to flank us. Victor-482, we could use some assistance. Hostiles on the second floor."

"_Affirmative, I see 'em," _replied the female pilot. _"I'm going loud."_

The Pelican's nose-mounted 50 cal blazed to life, raking the terrorists. It took only three seconds before they were killed.

"_Victor Lead, I am at bingo fuel. Returning to base. Able-653 will be here for the pickup."_

"Roger that, 482. Victor Lead, out."

"If they didn't know before," said Atin, "they know we're here now."

"Don't count on it," said Abbot. "You'd be surprised what people can sleep through."

They moved to the base of the bridge. Price directed Wallcroft and Abbot to guard the exit route, and told a trooper called McGrady to open the door. Wallcroft handed an M90 Tactical Shotgun to Fi, saying, "Use this in tight quarters."

Fi examined the weapon. He knew how to operate it, but had never actually used one in combat. "Thanks."

There was the usual sprinkling of enemy personnel, but they were not trained to fight elite troops. Niner, who was upset that they weren't allowed the DC-17 for this mission, realized that the silenced MA5K Assault Rifle was actually better suited for this kind of combat than the noisier Deece. The weapon barely made any noise in the stormy weather.

When they reached a staircase, one that went below decks as well as towards the bridge, Price said, "Here's what we do. Omega, you go up to the bridge and find out anything useful. Victor Squad and I'll secure the nuke. Understood?"

"Yes sir," replied Niner.

"Do you think they know we're here?" asked Atin as they climbed the stairs.

"Don't know," said Niner, "but let's err on the side of caution."

When Niner looked around the corner, he saw two men guarding the door to the Captain's quarters. He could hear voices behind the doors, but they were unintelligible. Two shots were fired, and both men went down without a word. The people inside continued to talk, oblivious.

Niner made sure his audio recorders were on, and slipped a probe under the door. What he saw surprised him.

There were three people. One was the ship's captain. The other was a CIS officer. The last one was a Trandoshan.

"My superiors wish to ask for your assistance in this matter," said the Sep officer.

"Let me get this straight," said the captain. "You want our help to try and whack the Chancellor?"

"More or less," said the Sep. "It will divert significant and vital Republic assets back to Coruscant, particularly from Kashyyyk. Because while the Republic doesn't wish to abandon Kashyyyk, they will not wish for a repeat of the Coruscant battle. For the Republic, the security of Triple Zero is sacrosanct and greater than the need to liberate Kashyyyk."

"And you're sure of this because…"

"We have our sources."

The Insurrectionist captain looked suspicious, but didn't question him further on the matter.

"Victor Lead, this is Omega Lead," said Niner. "Are you getting this?"

"_Yeah," _came the reply. _"Continue recording as long as you can. This could be vital."_

"In drawing away Republic forces from Kashyyyk," hissed the Trandoshan, "you will significantly help my slave trade. This contribution on your part will not be overlooked by my people."

"In return," said the captain, "my superiors want CIS help to fight the Imperialists UNSC. Not droids. We want trainers for our men, weaponry, and especially ships. Preferably fast-moving raiders that can hit hard. Without ships, the United Rebel Front can't mount an effective campaign. Also, we would like assistance from your terror cells to mount a campaign on Earth."

The Sep nodded, as if he had expected this. "Trainers and weaponry we can provide, but ships will take a while longer. You will get the first delivery within three days. I will inquire about the other requests with my superiors."

"Sounds good to me," said the captain.

"_See if you can take them alive," _said Price. _"If not, take 'em all out."_

"Roger," said Niner. He pulled back the probe. "Squad, switch to PEP." Although without their Deeces, they still had side-arm sized PEP lasers that could stun a Bantha. "Fi, unlock the door. Dar, on my mark, flashbang through the door." He waited three seconds. "Mark!"

Fi unlimbered the shotgun and put two blasts into the door lock. Niner kicked the door open, and Darman tossed two flashbang grenades into the small room. There was a flash of light and cries of surprise and pain, and the commandos barges in, PEP lasers blazing. All three occupants were secured within seconds.

"Anti-climactic, I think it's called," said Fi. "They didn't even have time to shoot back." All three targets had pulled out their sidearms, but all of the weapons had been dropped after Darman's flashbangs had done their work. The commandos pocketed all the weapons: the Trannie's KYD-56 Blaster, the captain's M6C, and the Sep officer's Westar Custom. Atin grabbed a laptop computer and a datapad.

"Victor Lead, this is Omega Lead. We've got all three baddies, and what looks like a big haul of info."

Price was ecstatic. _"Bloody brilliant! Well done, mate! Take them up to the top of the bridge, and call in the dropship. Pick us up after; we'll be on the main deck."_

There was a COM transmission. _"Victor Lead, this is _Leningrad_. Do you read me?"_

"_Go ahead, _Leningrad_," _said Price.

"_Get the hell out of there! Two incoming bogies closing fast. This'll have to beat the galactic record."_

"_You heard the man," _said Price. _"Move your asses!"_

00000

**A/N: Updates will be even slower now that I have exams. Please be patient.**


	7. Chapter 7: Shock And Awe

Chapter 7: Shock and Awe

**1215 hrs, March 12****th**** 2558 (Military Calendar)/**

**NAVSPECWAR Unit (India Squad)**

**Sigma Octanus System, Sigma Octanus IV**

Master Chief Petty Officer Ken Billings and his squad were in the middle of an enemy encampment. 'Encampment' didn't really apply here, though. This place was set up like a large, fully functional military base. They even had Tiger-Class UCAVs (Unmanned Combat Aerial Vehicles); two of them had just taken off and headed off after the storm that had passed through and was now over the sea. All of this indicated that there was someone here with military experience, probable an ex-UNSC officer; the enemy base's layout was similar to standard UNSC bases.

Useful info was what Billings was after, not combat. Intel gathered here could mean the difference between victory or defeat. However, that didn't mean that they didn't have to ignore targets of opportunity. That was why two members of his squad were atop a building opposite of the enemies' battalion HQ equipped with an M172 Trebuchet Gauss Rifle. Billings was hidden in the back of an old wheel-less pickup covered in tarp with his other squadmate, Ann Harper. It appeared that the truck had been used to transport fruit, and hadn't been washed since. It was all he could do to not vomit in his helmet.

The sound of his COM crackling nearly made Billings piss his pants; he wasn't sure whether the Innies could detect secure lines. But the transmission came from Captain Garner on the _Leningrad_, so it couldn't be ignored. "India Lead, here," he whispered.

"_India, two UCAVs just took off from the enemy base. Did you get a visual on them?"_

"Affirmative."

"_Listen closely, son. Those UCAVs are after a high-priority target. It is imperative that those UCAVs be taken out."_

"We don't have the ordnance, sir." And even if they had, there was no way that a LAU-65D/SGM-151 Missile Pod could track and hit a fast moving Tiger UCAV.

"_There's a radar controlling station located two miles east of your location. Take out the dish."_

Billings was on the top of a hillside, like the streets of LA. He could see the target. The only problem was that once he took it out, India Squad's cover was gone. "We'll need a distraction."

"_An AC709 is on station, codename THOR. They'll provide a distraction."_

The AC709 Flamberge Gunship was a longer, broader variant of the C709 Fighter/Bomber. Instead of the 110mm and 120mm cannons used on the C709, the AC709's armament reflected its role as a close air support/air interdiction/force protection gunship. On each side, there was a battery consisting of a Mk44 Bushmaster IV 90mm cannons, a 25mm GAU-32 Rotary cannon, and a 105mm howitzer. It was also armed with two AGSM-10 missiles and four Scorpion anti-tank missiles. Designed during the Covenant war, it entered service in 2534 and was revered by UNSC ground forces. However, its strength was also its weakness; the heavy payloads it carried made it slow and clumsy to maneuver, so it was almost always escorted by FA/S117 fighters.

A squadron like that would undoubtedly attract attention. It was a good distraction. "Understood, sir," said Billings. He contacted the gunship. "THOR, this is India Lead. Request fire support. We'll be FOF tagged."

"_We hear ya," _said the pilot. _"Crew, let's drop the hammer."_

Even as air raid sirens started blaring, the first 105mm round blasted a hole in the ground. Then the Mk44 started firing at an impressive 250RPM. The ground trembled steadily. Anti-air guns started blazing, and Billings hoped that THOR would evade destruction. The radar station couldn't be targeted while Billing's squad was in the area, but the rounds were hitting close enough so that his sniper could use the Trebuchet rifle to take out the radar system…as long as he timed it with the explosions. Sure enough, the dish crumpled easily.

"_India, this is THOR. Area's getting too hot. We're bugging out."_

"Roger that," said Billings. "_Leningrad_, this is India Lead. Radar station destroyed."

"_Good job, son. The ODSTs are beginning their attack. Link up with Golf Company and help them take the enemy HQ."_

Billings assumed that the UCAVs would crash into the ocean upon the severing of contact with their controllers, but the Tigers actually had a back-up stand-alone system. Once contact was lost with control, the UCAVs would continue towards their last objective. That objective happened to be a cargo ship out in the middle of the ocean.

000

**1217hrs, March 12****th**** 2558 (Military Calendar)/**

**Insurrectionist Cargo Ship C472**

**Sigma Octanus System, Sigma Octanus**

Most defensive actions pitted the commandos against vastly superior numbers. This time, however, the security detail on the ship weren't too keen on making an attack on soldiers three times as skilled as they were. It suited Niner just fine. He didn't have enough ammo to deal with all of them anyway; he was down to his DC-17s Sidearm and the PEP laser.

Fi, who was watching the deck below from Omega's perch on top of the bridge, was covering the deck with a BR55HB Battle Rifle. "Awww," he said. "Look at that. He's actually taking cover…behind a gas tank." He pulled the trigger, and the tank exploded. A charred man stood up, on fire and screaming, until Fi shot him. "How very stupid."

"I hope they're all that stupid," said Atin. "Makes it easier on us."

Darman was loading the prisoners onto the Pelican with the aid of a Marine crew chief. The Insurrectionist captain of the ship kicked Darman in the shins, but the commando did not react visibly. The captain, however, howled louder than the wind, he toe stubbed against the commando's armor. "All the cargo's loaded," Darman said. "Enemy aircrafts' ETA is less than a minute."

"Let's go, then." Niner contacted Lieutenant Price. "Sir, we've secured the prisoners."

There was flashes of gunfire on the deck of the ship, indicating Victor Squad's presence there. _"Affirmative. Pick us up fast."_

Niner hadn't even sat down when the Pelican took off. It was a testament to the skill of the Pelican pilot that he—or she—was able to hover above the deck in the howling wind and rain. Victor Squad fired blindly as they retreated, one by one boarding the dropship. Just before they lifted off, however, an Innie jumped on the ramp. Tearing the safety pin on a grenade, the crazed man shouted, "Die, you imperialist pigs!"

Time seemed to slow down. Niner wasn't close enough to kick him off, and he knew he wouldn't be able to whip out his pistol in time. It was unfair that they had managed an incredible intelligence coup by capturing three high ranking enemy individuals, and now they and everyone else on the Pelican were about to be turned into nerf strips.

Suddenly, the NAVSPECWAR trooper named Abbot hurled himself at the Innie. Together, the two men fell out of the Pelican and onto the deck. Seconds later, the grenade exploded.

"Shit!" said Price. "Abbot! Abbot! Can you hear me? Come on, boy; talk!"

"_Ahhuuhh…ahhuuhhaagh…oh, God…"_

"Bloody hell," said Price. "He's still alive." He looked at the crew chief. "Harper, get me a—"

Two missiles streaked out of the stormy dark; the Tiger UCAVs had arrived. The missiles ripped the cargo ship apart, and Abbot's limp form slid beneath the waves. He was still broadcasting, however, and all on the Pelican heard the unfortunate man's dying screams.

The Pelican pilot, in no mood to sit in one spot while enemy aircraft were in the area, closed the rear hatch and rocketed skywards. There was utter silence in the passenger area. Niner noticed that there was a slump in the forms of the Victor Squad's remaining men. He knew how they felt, remembered how his confidence had been severely dented by losing men in his squad.

Wallcroft broke the silence. "He…he was only nineteen. His first mission."

Price put a reassuring hand on Wallcroft's shoulder, but didn't say anything.

The commandos looked at each other. Fi felt especially horrified. He had leapt on a grenade before, but the armor had saved him. He knew it would. Abbot did the same thing, knowing his armor wouldn't protect him. He saved the mission at the cost of his own life. It wasn't supposed to be like that, on milk run missions like this. Everyone was supposed to get home, celebrate, make jokes.

On the _Leningrad_, the commandos went to their bunks, feeling much less happy about the success of the mission. The Insurrectionist captain had made a remark about Abbot's mother, and Darman had been forced to prevent Wallcroft from perforating the man with his knife. Niner felt that he should've been used to it; he'd seen hundreds of men die. But he realized that he never would. And he knew that he had to live with that knowledge, and go on with the next mission.

The next morning, Abbot's dress uniform was put in his stead in a glass capsule. The capsule was ejected into space as a band played something called 'Taps' and a military chaplain read out final rites. As the capsule disappeared into the darkness of space, the _Leningrad _fired her guns three times, mourning the passing of an unsung hero.

000

**1500 hrs, March 12****th**** 2558 (Military Calendar)/**

**UNSCEC Base, ONI HQ**

**Coruscant System, Coruscant**

Captain Candice Takashi watched the HoloNet news. It was one of her rare breaks, and she made the most of it by watching the local networks.

"_Just hours ago," _said the male Twi'lek anchorman, _"UNSC forces located and destroyed a major Insurrectionist base deep within their territory. The brief campaign was an immediate success, with few friendly casualties. Rumors that a GAR unit was also operating in the region were dismissed by senior military officials in both the GAR and the UNSC's HighCom."_

Takashi frowned. Though it would never be publicly mentioned, one of the 'few casualties' was an extremely brave NAVSPECWAR trooper whose sacrifice had led to a literal explosion in leads against the enemy. _Damn shame_, she thought. _Kid should get a full military funeral, twenty-one gun salute and all_.

The reporter continued. _"Diplomatic tension between the UN and the Hutts continue to grow as the UN increases pressure on the Hutt government to deal with the terrorist threat on Nal Hutta. UN Secretary General Ivan Kaganovich said today that "If the Hutts aren't willing to deal with the problem, then someone else should do it for them". The Hutts responded to this thinly veiled threat by stating, "The UNSC will regret taking any action against our system. We will not sit by idly while the Republic gives their ally carte blanche to act in any way they see fit". Chancellor Palpatine said_—_" _

The news got boring real fast, even on this side of the galaxy. Takashi instead looked at the report that Kirkpatrick had gotten to her. Salje Tasha had given up only a little information before she died. But the plot involving Chancellor Valorum's death pointed to the man who was currently holding that office. Also interesting was the proposed assassination plot against Palpatine by the Insurrection and the CIS. Apart from drawing forces away from the vital Kashyyyk Theater, it would give the GAR a reason to operate in UNSC territory, something the Colonial Administration Authority was reluctant to do. The Chancellor would easily be able to insert a Covert Ops squad in UNSC space.

There were several hypotheses that Takashi could draw from this. One was the obvious fact that the CIS wanted Rear Admiral Miller's Twelfth Fleet out of the Kashyyyk System to relieve the pressure on their invasion. It would then only be a question as to how long the GAR's battered 41st and 501st Legions would hold out before the system fell firmly into Seperatist hands, thereby extending the war into the foreseeable future and, by extension, Palpatine's emergency tenure.

Another was that the Chancellor had somehow ordered the hit on himself to give the GAR a reason to conduct anti-Insurrection operations in UNSC territory. With Republic forces—and probably elite Covert Ops troopers—in easy reach of the UN's seat of power on Earth, Palpatine could exert considerable influence—and damage—if his goal was to become a dictator. That seemed entirely possible, considering the passage of the Sector Governance Decree; following a political scandal that involved a corrupt Senator and the loss of a planet called Duro, there had been calls from the Chancellor's supporters to give him greater power over the Republic's Sectors. The Decree gave him just that, transferring the control of these sectors to Governors and men with the ridiculous title of 'Moff' who answered directly to the Chancellor. As a matter of practicality, the Senate no longer had any power.

Yet another hypotheses was available, one that Takashi had special interest in. It was widely known that Jedi General and hero of the Republic Anakin Skywalker had a close relationship with Palpatine, almost like a father-son kind of thing. Skywalker was also reputed to be the 'Chosen One' by the Jedi. Takashi still didn't understand what precisely that meant, but she knew that Skywalker was an important and influential individual. Having such an individual at his side supporting him gave the Chancellor great influence over the Jedi, something they clearly did not like. The political climate surrounding the Jedi was also unfavorable.

Takashi took out her highly encrypted datapad and typed up her evaluations. This kind of information could be useful for her analysts on _Event Horizon_. After she had done that, she contacted the man watching Kal Skirata's rogue Null unit, Chief Petty Officer Frank Hartman.

"_Hartman here."_

"It's me," said Takashi. "I want you to initiate contact with Skirata."

"_Is this for real?"_

"Yes. Very."

Hartman sighed. _"I'll do it, but I hope you know what you're doing." _The line went dead.

000

**2300 hrs, March 14****th**** 2558 (Military Calendar)/**

**UNSC **_**Event Horizon**_

**(CLASSIFIED! BGX Directive), (CLASSIFIED! BGX Directive) System**

Kal Skirata woke up groggily. He noticed his hands and feet were cuffed to a metal chair. On his right was Ordo, who was restrained in a similar fashion and whose armor was removed; the ARC only had his black body suit on. Ordo sported a bleeding forehead, and the sight of that wound brought back the memory of what had happened.

Kal only remembered that they had both been running. He recalled the ground around their feet being peppered with bullets. At the time, he had thought whoever was chasing them had very bad aim, but now he realized they had been chivvying him and Ordo into a trap. The last memory he had was the impact of a dart in his thigh.

"They're awake, ma'am," said someone. Kal looked up, and saw that he was surrounded by no less than eight men in black armor and silver visors. Their assault rifles were pointed loosely in his direction, but half of them had Ordo firmly in their sights. Behind this screen of what had to be NAVSPECWAR troops was a woman in a black UNSC Navy uniform. The bars on her collar gave her the rank of Captain.

"I hope you aren't feeling too bad," she said.

"I've had worse," said Skirata. But he had never been caught that easily. "Didn't think your people would catch us like that."

"You could ask Lieutenant Bell here," she said. "It wasn't that easy. We would have caught you much faster if we'd sent Spartans, but then we'd have advertised our existence."

"Ah," said Skirata. "I understand now. You're a rogue unit."

"An ultra-secret unit," said the woman. "Pardon me, I haven't introduced myself. I'm Captain Takashi, ONI Section 1, Subsection Beta-7. I already know you and your…son."

Ordo was looking at the woman as if deciding which method he should use to kill her. The look wasn't lost on the NAVSPECWAR troopers, who flicked off their safeties and aimed at Ordo in an exaggerated manner.

"Why did you capture us?" asked Ordo.

"We know what you're investigating."

"I don't—"

Takashi shook her head. "Don't bullshit me, trooper. You _do _know what I'm talking about."

Kal knew. "Valorum."

"Yes."

"Still," said Ordo, "You haven't answered my question."

Takashi wasn't about to give him a straight answer. "In the past, many missions have been flunked because intelligence agencies weren't willing to cooperate with each other. They established 'turfs' and got pissy when someone else tread on their cases. The problem is that a lot of cases overlap, and it is inevitable that two agencies will end up working on the same case."

Kal was one to get to the point. "You want our help."

"We want you in Beta-7. You'll be our eyes in the GAR."

"Why would we spy on the Republic? That's treasonous."

"From what I see," said Takashi, "you don't give a rat's ass about the Republic. The only ones you care about are the troopers."

"Right." _Fierfek, she's sharp_.

"I'll give you an incentive to join us. Remember ARC Trooper Alpha-30? You might know him better as Sull."

Kal was silent, but Takashi knew from his expression that he did. "What about it?" asked Ordo.

"We have word that GAR Intelligence knows where he is. They've sent a Covert Ops team after him."

"You're lying," said Ordo. "No one knows—"

"Naboo," said Takashi simply. Ordo went white, but whether it was from anger or fear was hard to tell.

"What does Sull have to do with anything?" asked Skirata.

"Lieutenant Bell and his men can get him out. I can arrange things so that Sull is granted asylum by the Colonial Administration Authority and the UN. Our laws can protect him against any retaliation by the GAR, and ONI can hide him."

"And in return," said Kal, "we help you."

"Yes."

"What if the Republic goes after Sull anyway?"

"They won't find him," said Takashi confidently. "And if they try, my government will release all details that we have on the assassinations and other actions taken against AWOL clones by the GAR to the public media. That will make the Chancellor look very bad, considering the Covert Ops clones answer directly to his office." In fact, Takashi was hoping that the GAR would try to kill Sull for that very reason, but she didn't say that out loud.

"Alright," said Skirata, "we'll help, but on one condition."

"Shoot."

"We—that is, me and my boys—will have free reign. No control. I answer to you and no one else. And don't even think you can give me orders."

"Not this time," said Takashi. "You will obey my orders, or we'll release Sull out of our care. And if you go back on this or go rogue after he's safe, we'll do the GAR's job for them. You try to retaliate, and we will hunt you down. Am I clear, _Sergeant?_"

Kal was angry, but he couldn't do anything. He was most likely jammed here, so he couldn't contact any of the other Nulls. Takashi didn't look like the kind of woman who made false threats. And he was worried for Sull. For now, he would comply. "You win."

00000

**A/N: Some of you may be asking, "Where the hell is the Master Chief?" He'll be here soon, I promise…after my exams.**

**Oh, and FraserMage, the CoD4 reference is not "ripped" as you claim, but is more of a tribute to that very impressive game. Besides, Price is fing awesome.**


	8. Chapter 8: End War Begins

Chapter 8: End War Begins

**0103hrs, March 15th 2558 (Military Calendar)/ **

**Theed**** City**

**Naboo, Naboo System**

Lieutenant Augustus "Gus" Bell (ZULU Squad, 4th NAVSPECWAR) knew that he and his men weren't supposed to exist. They were never here. He also knew that the more men he had with him, the more likely that they would be spotted. Zulu Squad was on its own for that reason, and Bell decided he would act as if he was in enemy territory.

It was essential that they get the package—an AWOL ARC trooper named Sull—out of here before the Covert Ops clones showed up. Bell was reasonably confident that his four-man squad could easily deal with the two-man CO teams, but he had no intention of leaving bodies behind. It would alert a lot of people—like the RNSF, the Royal Naboo Security Force—and create a lot of uncomfortable questions…not to mention that the security and secrecy of Beta-7 might be compromised by such action. There were ways to deal with such incidents as Bell knew that they could happen, but he preferred to avoid the hassle.

Theed, the capital of Naboo, was really beautiful at night. It was also very quiet, meaning gunfire could be heard miles off. Bell had prepared for it by using the latest UNSC Special Forces toy: the MA4A SOPMOD Carbine, specially adapted for a silencer. Highly adaptable and modifiable, the MA4A used 6.8mm rounds, hollow-points for this mission. Better yet, the 6.8mm wasn't officially used by the UNSCDF, so it was untraceable…for the most part, since 'officially' was the key word.

Their armor was radar absorbent and was dark, making them difficult to see at night. It wasn't black, like many supposed, but a dark shade of green that was supposed to be the color of night. To the naked eye, it would be very hard indeed to see them.

As they approached the city via one of the canals, CPO Mark Beasley asked, "Rules of engagement, sir?"

"Civilians and RNSF personnel are not to be targeted. Avoid a confrontation with the RNSF at all costs. Covert Ops clones are expendable, but avoid that if possible. The package is to be extracted alive. Remember, fire _only_ if fired upon. Got that?" Bell knew they did, but they nodded anyway.

Sull apparently had had enough of the soldier life. He had taken up a job in a cubicle and lived in an apartment. Bell hoped that Sull had gotten the heads-up from Skirata; it would not do if they had to literally package the ARC trooper, something that did not sound like 'happy day'.

"Possible hostiles," said PO Beau Dunkin. "Two clone troopers, white armor, moving toward target building."

"It's perfectly normal for the local GAR garrison to send out patrols," said Bell, "So keep weapons tight. Keep an eye on them, though."

"Roger. Contacts marked." Two orange NAV markers appeared on their HUDs, hovering above the clones.

"Dunkin," said Bell as an afterthought, "Stay here and watch the entrance. If the clones go inside, tell me. But you are to fire only if they fire on you. Got it?"

"Yes sir, holding position."

They entered the building through a back door. One in the morning on Naboo was, as a rule, a no-one-is-awake time. The apartment building didn't even have the traditional beer-bellied rent-a-cop armed with the oh-so-scary billy club. Bell reflected that he could have just walked in the front door, but where was the fun in that?

Bell knocked on Sull's door. "Who is it?" came a voice.

"Friends," said Bell. "Can we come in?"

"Yeah, door's unlocked," replied Sull, thereby completing the innocent-sounding code-word confirmation exchange. He opened the door, and Bell was surprised to see that the man seemed a lot different than any other clone…at first glance. Sull had grown a beard and moustache, and his skin was two shades darker than his clone brethren. It was surprising to see how a few changes could radically alter one's appearance.

"You've done your homework," Bell remarked. "Ready to move out?"

"Sure," said the clone. "Nothing I can't leave behind."

"You armed?"

"Yes. DC-17s Sidearm."

"Then I don't have to tell you to try not to use it."

Sull nodded. He knew that well before Bell had planned this mission, but it wouldn't do to make his rescuers feel stupid. "The clone garrison here is supposed to have got two new members today. You know what I'm thinking?"

"Yeah. Tell me; is it standard operating procedure to have two-man patrols for normal infantry?"

Sull shook his head. "Four-man patrols are standard. Which means you've seen two clone troopers who aren't the low-level clones. If they're wearing armor, they're not off-duty."

_He's sharp_, Bell thought. "Right. Let's move out then." As they made their way down the stairs, Bell contacted _Event Horizon_. "Eagle, this is Zulu Lead. We have the package and are en route to extraction point. Be advised that we have spotted two possible hostiles. We've marked them."

_Event Horizon _responded immediately. _"Roger that, Zulu Lead. We can see the two markers. Be advised that they are converging on your position."_

"Copy that. Zulu Lead out." Bell turned to Sull. "We'd better shift it now. My people can kill them, but bodies are hard to explain." 

They decided to leave through the front door; the live orbital feed from the ship showed the two clones going for the back door…which struck Sull as odd, but not enough to worry. The last man, PO Daniel Kelly, had just closed the door when something gave them all cause to worry: a blue blaster bolt hit the permacrete wall just behind the NAVSPECWAR trooper.

"Shit!" said Dunkin. "New contacts! I see two! I've got a clean line of fire!"

Bell thought quickly. He didn't want to leave bodies behind, but there was little choice, was there? "Weapons free."

There were two whispers from a silenced weapon, and two muffled yelps. "Tangos eliminated," said Dunkin. "Recommend that we get the hell out of here!"

"Duly noted!" Bell replied. "Zulu Squad, let's move it!" He patched back into the _Event Horizon_'s COM system. "Eagle, Zulu Lead here. We've had hard contact. We've taken out two hostiles, previously unmarked. We're en route to extraction point."

_"Negative, Zulu Lead," _replied Captain Takashi. _"Primary extraction point is compromised. There's a new extraction point due east of your position. We've marked it in your HUD."_

Bell saw the NAV marker, marking the new extraction point… back the way they came. "Uh, Eagle? There are two more hostiles that way. Do we have permission to engage those as well?"

_"Granted."_

"Alright, then." Bell addressed his team. "Zulu Squad, we are weapons free at this time."

"Roger that," they replied.

Bell handed his silenced 9mm M6E to Sull. "Not as noisy as a blaster."

"Got it," the clone replied, pulling back the slide as if he had used one several times.

Bell decided to take a roundabout course to the extraction point. The NAV markers that were on the enemies followed them on his tactical map. That made him take a more direct route. However, the escape wasn't covert. A civilian stood in his way, gaping at the five armed men rushing towards him. Kelly elbowed the man in the face, and his wails were sure to alert anyone that was chasing them. Sure enough, blaster bolts started peppering the ground near their feet and sizzled past their shoulders. Beasley, the squad's marksman, turned around and fired his BR56DMR (Designated Marksman Rifle). There was one yelp.

"Tango down," said the marksman. "Remaining bogie is out of sight."

"Let's not wait for him to show up," said Sull.

Soon, a Pelican zoomed overhead, hovering above a garden. The pilot patched into Bell's COM. _"Zulu Lead, this is Foxtrot 933. We are at the extraction point."_

"Roger that," said Bell.

Suddenly, a blue bolt appeared almost out of nowhere. It grazed Sull's shin and the ARC trooper fell. Bell whirled to face the source of the fire, rifle raised…and saw a clone trooper, sans helmet…five feet in front of him. Bell was used to seeing this face as a friendly face, but this one was definitely not friendly. So he pulled the trigger. The hollow-point blew half of the unfortunate man's face off, and the enemy fell to the ground.

_"Zulu Lead," _said the Pelican pilot, _"We've detected weapons fire. What the hell's going on?"_

"Foxtrot, this is Zulu Lead. We're on our way." Bell hauled Sull up. "On your feet, soldier; we are leaving."

Without further delay, they got onto the Pelican. As RNSF officers rushed towards the scene, the dropship flew away, unseen by anyone. Bell was furious that they had been detected. Worse, they had left bodies behind. It would raise a lot of questions, particularly from the Chancellor. That meant that the operation against Palpatine, whatever it was, had to proceed immediately.

The pilot had no such worries, just being glad that no one had shot at him or his bird. _"Eagle, this is Foxtrot 933. We have the package and are bugging out."_

000

**0115 hrs, March 15th 2558 (Military Calendar)/ **

**UNSC _Event Horizon_**

**Naboo, Naboo System**

Kal Skirata didn't really care about the long term effects that the deaths of the four Covert Ops troopers would cause, although he felt bad that they had died. No, he was just happy that Sull was alive. He gave the bewildered ex-ARC a slap on the back, saying, "Good to see you, son. Made it out okay?

"Apart from the dead assassins, and the leg, yeah," replied Sull. "You can thank the Lieutenant here for that; he got the guy who shot me."

Kal nodded appreciatively at Zulu Squad and got a few thumbs-up in return. They were almost like the commandos he had trained, only much more experienced…and they weren't clones. He pointed at the woman in the corner. "That's Captain Takashi. She organized the escape."

Takashi didn't waste any time with pleasantries. "We've arranged everything. You will be taken to Earth, where my colleagues have set up a safehouse. You have a UN passport and a new name."

"What about a job?" asked Sull.

"You can have a desk job at ONI. Or whatever you want."

"What would I do at ONI?"

Takashi shrugged. "I imagine they'll make you an analyst or something."

"No fighting?"

"No fighting."

Sull nodded. "I'll take it."

"Good. You'll be safe once you're on Earth; the Chancellor won't dare to send an assassination squad to the capital of an ally."

Sull nodded again, and left with a crewman to quarters prepared for him.

"Ma'am," said Lt. Bell, "I did not anticipate two CO teams. I should have—"

"We've send a cleanup team to Naboo already," said Takashi. "They'll make the clones look like they were killed by blaster fire from CIS-issue weapons. You did what you were supposed to, Gus; you got Sull out alive."

"How was the extraction point compromised?"

"A group of Gungans were wandering around that area, looking for shellfish, of all things. Intel's never perfect."

"There's an epidemic of that," said Skirata. "What do we do now?"

Takashi laced her fingers together. "Pool all the dirt we've collected on the Chancellor, and see what we come up with."

000

**1300hrs, March 17th 2558 (Military Calendar)/**

**CIS Base**

**Pau**** City****, Utapau, Utapau System **

General Grievous was not pleased. Dooku's death meant that the Sith Lord's duties now fell on his duranium shoulders…and those duties included reporting to the Seperatist Council. The cyborg wondered how Dooku had kept his patience talking with these…things. It was certainly an effort for himself, trying not to decapitate all of them with a single swing.

"You are moving us again?!" exclaimed Trade Federation Viceroy Nute Gunray. "I thought you said we were safe here!"

Grievous sighed. "Utapau was to be nothing more than a _temporary _stay for you."

"Temporary?"

"While you were here, construction of a secret base on Mustafar was just finishing up. Now it has been completed, and it has become the most secure facility in the galaxy."

"It would be," said Gunray dismissively, "if it weren't for the small problem of Jedi."

"_I _will deal with the Jedi."

"What about the Spartans, then? You haven't been able to deal with _them_." Thanks to ONI propaganda, the legend of the Spartans had spread to every known corner of the galaxy. And Gunray knew that Grievous was nearly killed by one.

Grievous snarled; Gunray must have known how much that would sting. "The base can withstand a hundred Spartans. A thousand."

"Do you hear yourself? Are you mad?"

"What I am," said Grievous slowly, "is unaccustomed to having my orders questioned." He turned around; to look at the Neimodian any longer would be to risk losing his temper and splatter the Viceroy's brains from here to Ord Mantell. "Your ship is waiting."

000

Unbeknownst to Grievous, he was being watched. Master Chief Petty Officer John-117, code-name: SIERRA117, and a Null-ARC trooper named Jaing lay on their bellies, peering down from an overhead strut in the large bay. The rest of Spartan Blue Team was dispersed across the area, making sure there were no blind spots in their surveillance.

"Interesting," said Jaing. "Mustafar is their actual base? We should pass that on."

"Negative," said Cortana. "We'd be detected."

"What I meant," said Jaing carefully, "was that we should pass that on _at the nearest opportunity_. That OK with you, blue lady?"

"My name is Cortana."

"Whatever." He addressed the Spartans: "What do you guys think?"

Fred answered over the COM. _"I think we should NOVA bomb Mustafar…but that's just me. The brass would probably send us or another special forces team in to disable the defenses and do some recon, and follow up with a conventional assault."_

_"That's probably the best idea,"_ said Kelly. _"Every fortress, no matter how strong, has a weakness."_

"Right," said Jaing. "But considering the testicular fortitude (or lack thereof) of the ruling council—Gunray, in particular—we could just scare them into surrender."

_"That could work against us," _said Linda. _"They could barricade themselves in there instead. Like animals forced into a corner."_

"Focus, people," said the Chief. "This kind of stuff is for the brass to consider. Keep your mind on the mission."

There was a chorus of "Roger" and the COMs fell silent. The Chief addressed Cortana: "Can you use their COM systems to send an alert to Coruscant?"

"I could," said the AI. "You'll have to physically insert me into a command console, however."

"Where's the nearest one?"

In answer, Cortana marked the console that Grievous used…twenty feet below them. "That's the one."

"Any others?"

"No."

_Shit_, the Chief thought. Grievous was in the area, and he didn't relish the thought of going one-on-one with the cyborg general without heavy ordnance.

_"Wait,"_ said Linda. _"Grievous is leaving. He's going towards his shuttle."_

"Probably getting a message," said Jaing. "There's you chance, Chief. Reckon you can survive a twenty-foot drop?"

"Easily, sir," the Master Chief replied. "The Mark VI armor can survive a drop through an atmosphere and preserve the life of the Spartan wearing it. It'll make a lot of noise, though."

"You can survive a high altitude jump in that?" asked Jaing dubiously.

_"The Mark V saved my life and Kelly's," _said Fred. _"Here's the vid record."_

Jaing watched the vid in his HUD. "Wow." He looked at the Chief. "Get Cortana in that console, will you?"

"Yes, sir." Without hesitation, the Chief jumped. Five-hundred kilograms of Spartan landed, making a smaller-than-expected dent in the duranium floor and causing his shields to flare. He braced for the inevitable hailstorm of blaster fire, but nothing happened. Maybe Grievous was paying attention more attention to whatever it was that had distracted him, or maybe the droids hadn't detected him. Either way, he wasn't going to complain.

A quick dash brought him to the console, and simply putting his gauntlet on it allowed Cortana to transfer herself into it. "I'm in," she said. "Get out of here."

The Chief nodded, and activated the latest upgrade to his armor.

Even droids' visual receptors have a limit, in that they can only see a specific wavelength. The B1 and B2 battle droids were restricted to the general wavelength of all the species in the galaxy, namely the same one as humans. So, when patrol GF31883T went to the council room to investigate a disturbance, the droids did not notice a barely visible figure pass silently through their ranks. And since they were looking for live targets and nothing else, they did not register the dent in the floor, nor did they switch to thermal vision, and reported all-clear to their Neimodian controller.

The Chief, invisible in his active camo, returned to his spot with Jaing, and waited for the Republic response.

000

**1545hrs, March 17th 2558 (Military Calendar)/**

**Grand Army of the Republic Fleet Operations Center (Allied Treaty Organization wing)  
Bright Jewel System, Ord Mantell**

General Etain Tur-Mukan was yet again stuffed with paper work. Thankfully, she wasn't the only one. The 41st had been rotated out of Ord Mantell and was currently on Kashyyyk, but her old friend Allen Bradshaw was here, as usual commanding the 52nd Battalion, 405th Marines. Bradshaw had been promoted to Lieutenant Colonel since Etain had last seen him, proof of his ability to lead.

Bradshaw sat at a desk to the left of the room in which Etain worked. He furrowed his eyebrows as he went over dozens of after-action reports, transfer papers, leave requests, and hundreds of other annoying tidbits. "You'd think they'd have taken the paper out of paper work by this century," said the London native. Etain didn't respond, just nodded wearily. She had thought the same thing, but what was mind-boggling was that the Republic was a thousand years older than the UNSC, and yet had not dispensed with their version of paper, flimsiplast.

There was a knock on the door, and Etain buzzed it open, welcoming any distraction. A clone trooper in pristine white armor not yet blemished by Legion markings saluted smartly, holding flimsiplast sheets in his hand. "General, this just came in. A UNSC transmission, Alpha Priority." He handed a sheet to both officers.

Etain scanned the page, reading:

**United Nations Space Command**

**Alpha Priority Transmission 38174G-84**

**Public Key: **file/foxtrot-bravo-juliet-seven/

**From: **AI CTN 0452-9 "CORTANA"

**Subject: **MARIANAS

**Classification: **Classified (BGX Directive)

/start file/

Targets **Straight Flush **confirmed sighting in UTAPAU System, PAU City. Recommend initiation of Operation: MARIANAS. Be advised: ALTO Team Sierra-November-One in UTAPAU System, PAU City. Also be advised: **Extremely Heavy Enemy Presence**.

/end file/

"Oh," said Etain. Maybe today wasn't going to be as boring as she thought. 'Straight Flush' was the ALTO (Allied Treaty Organization) code-word for the Seperatist Council, and Operation: MARIANAS was the planned assault that would end the war.

"What is it, ma'am?" asked Bradshaw.

Etain looked at the man. "I think the war's going to be over soon."

00000

**A/N: I'm baaaaaaaaaaaack!**


	9. Chapter 9: Utapau

Chapter 9

Chapter 9

**1800 hrs, March 17****th**** 2558 (Military Calendar)/**

**GAR Staging Area 3SA000**

**Coruscant System, Coruscant**

Marshal Commander Cody (CC-2224) stood patiently at the bottom of the ramp, helmet in hand, waiting at the entrance of the Venator-Class Star Destroyer _Guarlara_. High General Obi-Wan Kenobi walked down the ramp towards him, talking via hologram with his former Padawan, Jedi Knight and General Anakin Skywalker.

"It will probably turn out to be nothing more than a wild Bantha chase," Kenobi was saying; from the look on Skywalker's face, it was clear that the latter was disappointed that he wasn't coming along for the ride. "I promise I will take care of myself," he said with a smile.

"Don't worry, General Skywalker," said Cody. "I'll hold his hand."

Skywalker, who had usually been moody the past few months, actually managed to laugh. _"I hope you do."_

"Come on, sir," said Cody, "have I ever let you down?"

"_Well, there _was_ Cato Neimodia…"_

Cody decided not to point out that it wasn't _his_ fault. "We'll be fine, sir. How is the Kashyyyk battle going on? Are our new allies much use? I've never really worked with the UNSC before…although the intel they dig up is surprisingly good."

"_They're actually very good, especially their Navy. Their pilots aren't too bad either, although they're not as good as me."_

"I'll bet, sir," replied Cody. _Not as reckless, either, _he thought, _although fighter jockeys _are_ a bunch of snotty little fierfeks._

"_To answer your first question, I think we're just about done here. Master Yoda arrived just in time to help that 501__st__ detachment repel the Seperatists from the oil refinery, Delta Squad and Master Vos have arrived on the scene, and the enemy force is essentially in shambles. I'll bet we'll be finished before you get to—oh, right; I'm not supposed to say over open comlink."_

"If you're finished that early," said Kenobi, "you might as well help us out later if we do run into trouble…if you can really wrap up things as soon as you say."

"_Have I ever let you down?"_

"Well," said Cody, "there _was_ Cato Neimodia…"

Skywalker smiled. _"Good luck then. May the Force be with you."_

"May the Force be with you too, my young friend," said Kenobi, and the blue hologram of the Jedi Knight vanished. He pocketed the comlink. "So Cody, what's the situation exactly?"

"An ALTO Team, designation Sierra-November-One, spotted our multi-limbed friend Grievous on Utapau. And not just Grievous. Almost all the Sep council, too…although we just received a report that indicates they are preparing to move to Mustafar, the actual Sep stronghold; apparently Utapau was just a temporary stop-over. We'll probably be able to bag Grievous only."

"That won't be too bad," Kenobi remarked. "He _is _their best general, after all. Removing him from play will significantly tip the odds in our favor."

"I thought so as well, sir."

"Who do we have with us?"

Cody shook his head in amazement. "The Security Council and ALTO have deemed this an all-or-nothing mission. They've given us enough forces to take three systems. Third Systems Army, Open Circle Armada, even a detachment from the 501st. The UNSC is also sending its best: detachments from the 105th, 101st and 82nd ODST divisions, units from the 75th Ranger Battalion, four NAVSPECWAR teams, and 1st Fleet, led by Fleet Admiral Lord Terrence Hood himself. ALTO already has a team on the surface, of course, the ones who sent the transmission. That team is made up of four Spartans and a Null-ARC who calls himself 'Jaing'.

"Amazing," said Kenobi. "Is it really true that one of the Spartans nearly killed Grievous?"

"So I've heard," said Cody. "Though I don't know whether to believe it or not. General Zey's ARC trooper, Captain Maze, swore that he saw the Master Chief laser Grievous without much fuss. But you know what I think of ARC troopers, Null or Alpha."

"There is no doubt that the Spartans are skilled," said Kenobi. "How else would the UNSC win such a war as they had had with the Covenant? We'll see how skilled they are soon, at any rate."

"Yes sir."

As usual, whenever ships left the staging area, people of all ages came to watch, especially children. Because even in a war, there are only a few times when you can watch ships more than a kilometer long lift up with the terrifying and awe-inspiring sound of massive engines and stressed metal, blotting out the sun with their dagger shapes, and rise majestically into the sky. It was truly a sight to behold, because one really took hope from the image of those ready to fight and die for their freedom, ready to take the pain to the enemy. And who was to say it would happen again in their lifetime?

Three hundred ships of the Grand Army of the Republic Navy broke atmosphere and maneuvered to join two hundred vessels of their UNSC allies, and the order was given. Slipspace and hyperdrive engines were engaged and the entire host vanished into the dark of space.

000

**1930 hrs, March 17****th**** 2558 (Military Calendar)/**

**Republic Security Council Chambers, Senate Building**

**Coruscant System, Coruscant**

Even though the largest fleet yet seen had departed for what was supposed to be the first of the last battles of the Clone Wars, the Security Council was not concerned with that at the moment. A previously unknown group had showed its hand, and the entire group of senators was stunned by the words of Captain Candice Takashi and simulated-sergeant Kal Skirata.

Senator Gigar Tallon spoke first. "Are you serious?"

"Like a heart attack," said Skirata. "How do Palpatine's activities compare with what we know is evidence? You used to be in the Navy's Internal Affairs, Senator Tallon."

Tallon nodded. "I know, but…this is…well, extraordinary."

The Twi'lek Senator Hydar Ban said, "Extraordinary? That's the mildest way to put it. There's no denying the evidence we've seen, and the Force knows we've grilled these two for hours regarding this. But the thought of Palpatine being the head of the CIS _and _the Republic…considering the current war, it just…blows my mind!"

"What kind of action can we take?" asked a human senator (Kal had no idea where he was from). "It might be dangerous to do anything."

"It will be even more dangerous to do nothing," said Senator Com Fordox of Corellia. "There's only one way to end this."

"And what is that?" asked Senator Ban.

"Contingency Order Sixty-Five."

The entire room was stunned. Order 65 was one of a series of contingency orders. Order 65 was essentially a command to remove the current Chancellor from office, by force if necessary. "Are you mad?" asked Ban.

"Are you?" Fordox shot back. "I, for one, will _not _allow the Republic to be a puppet in a play for Palpatine's amusement!"

"Not amusement," said Takashi. "Comparing Palpatine's face with tapped transmissions of CIS commanders like Grievous and Ventress communicating with the man called Darth Sidious, we are absolutely sure that Sidious and Palpatine are one and the same."

"And what does that mean?" asked Tallon.

"It means that he orchestrated this entire war. It was never CIS versus the Republic. It was the Sith versus the Jedi. They've done open battle many times previously, and the Sith have learned that they can't win like that. So they've now turned to more subtle methods. Palpatine created the CIS, put a few Dark Jedi to lead the Seps, and set them on the Republic…and the Republic's Jedi protectors. Notice how the Jedi are scattered across the galaxy, with no one else but clones to back them up?"

"Explain," said Tallon.

"You know what Order Sixty-Six is, don't you?"

Tallon was stunned; it all made perfect sense to him now. "With the Jedi spread thin across the galaxy, all the Chancellor has to do is say the word…"

"Yes," said Kal. "All the Jedi die." Kal was especially infuriated; the boys he had trained and raised like sons had been nothing more than a means for some crazed Sith to take his revenge on the Jedi. This was personal for him.

"But what is he waiting for?" asked Tallon.

"I don't know," said Takashi, worry now clear on her face. "And I don't want to wait for Palpatine to make the first move."

"Neither do I," said Tallon. He looked around the Council chamber at the faces of his colleagues. "Do the rest of you feel the same way?" The entire room nodded assent. There was nothing better to infuriate a person than to find out that they were just a pawn in someone else's game. "Very well, then." The senators punched a series of codes simultaneously. Then Tallon, as the chairman of the council, pressed a button that would transmit to all GAR units in the galaxy. He hesitated before he spoke, but then resolve hardened his expression and he spoke clearly and authoritatively. "By the order of the Security Council of the Grand Army of the Republic, the Chancellor is to be taken into custody as per Contingency Order Sixty-Five. As per Contingency Order Five, I, Senator Gigar Tallon of Eriadu, remove the title and privileges of the office of Chancellor from the individual named Palpatine and hereby take the position of Acting Chancellor of the Republic and all the duties that come with that office until an elected official takes over."

Takashi did the courtesy of saluting the new CIC of the Grand Army of the Republic. "Now that Palpatine can't use the Chancellor's office for his own ends, he's going to be pissed. We'll need to transport you all to a safe place."

"Why?" asked Tallon. "The clones will take care of him."

"Remember," Kal warned, "He _is _a Sith Lord, in all likelihood the most dangerous one, too. And he still has the Covert Operations Legion under his direct command."

"He'll try to kill you," Takashi clarified.

"I can defend myself," said Tallon with a touch of pride, patting his first blaster that he had received as a soldier of the Republic, thirty years before.

"With all due respect, sir, I can't take that chance. Lieutenant Bell here will protect you and the rest of the Security Council while we move you to a safe location."

"And where would that be?"

"You'll see for yourself later," said Takashi. Tallon saw the look in her eyes and decided not to argue.

"Alright then."

000

**Chancellor's Office**

The Force had told him everything while he sat in his chair. Palpatine did not react visibly, but he was worried. How? How could everything fall apart now? It was a touch ironic that he had been stabbed in the back by his UNSC allies as he had his old Master. And not everything was lost. Not yet. The CIS was still a force to be reckoned with, and there were hundreds of Dark Jedi ready to heed his call, many already on Coruscant. And he could easily make this building into a fortress.

And, of course, his favorite Jedi, one he could have easily called his son. A young, brash—and deeply flawed—man called Anakin Skywalker.

000

**1930 hrs, March 17****th**** 2558 (Military Calendar)/**

**UNSC Navy BBBG-Class Battle Group 'Tango', Twelfth Fleet**

**Kashyyyk System, Kashyyyk**

Anakin triggered the Eta-2 Actis Interceptor's laser cannons. The Vulture Droid Fighter tried to evade, jinked right…and crossed directly into the gunsights of the FA/S117 Katana Fighter that covered Anakin's flank. The 70mm cannon rounds blasted the droid fighter to bits, and the pilot did a victory roll as he flew through the gas cloud that was left behind. "Nice shot, Knife-One-One," said Anakin.

"_Thanks sir," _the pilot replied. _"Hot damn! But ain't this a turkey shoot."_

Anakin wondered what a turkey was, and was about to ask when something came to his attention. "I sense…something." _Palpatine. Palpatine?_

"_Spider-sense tingling again, sir?" _The pilot and his fellows didn't think much of the so-called Force.

"I have to go," Anakin said suddenly. He looped his fighter around and accelerated towards the hyperspace ring his ship needed to travel.

000

"What the hell—?!" Lieutenant Manuel Guitierrez said, racing after the Jedi General. "Sir, you are leaving the battle-zone. Turn around immediately. Acknowledge."

Nothing. The Jedi Interceptor docked with the hyperspace ring.

"Juliet-Five, please respond."

Skywalker didn't reply. The ring's engines glowed in unison with the interceptor, and they suddenly became a ball of light that streaked across the stars and disappeared before Guitierrez could even blink.

"Cońo," Manuel breathed. "_Iowa_, this is Knife-One-One. Juliet-Five just went AWOL."

"_We know, Knife-One-One." _The Admiral sounded angry. _"What vector was he on?" _After Manuel gave him the info, the Admiral sounded even angrier. _"Son of a bitch is going to Coruscant!"_

000

**1956 hrs, March 17****th**** 2558 (Military Calendar)/**

**Alpha Company, 82****nd**** ODST Battalion**

**En route to Pau City, Utapau, Utapau System**

Sergeant Major Peter Stacker gazed out of the Pelican's open hatch. The helmet gave him protection from the howling winds, but that didn't prevent him from feeling like a kernel in a popcorn bag. The assault on Pau City was about to begin, and Alpha Company was in the lead…of the UNSC forces, anyway. Leading the GAR assault was the 2nd Airborne Company, made up of clone paratroopers. Stacker, like all other ODSTs, believed that paratroopers, while certainly crazy, were not as good as men and women willing to ride in on pods with only a few centimeters of metal protecting them from the white-hot friction with a planet's atmosphere.

Sadly, the structure of Pau City didn't allow for HEV pods. The surface of Utapau was, as company commander Captain Jeffrey Peng put it, a "pile of ass and wind". Any settlement was located in giant sinkholes, with all the buildings set flush into the sides. An HEV drop would land the ODSTs into an ocean. Instead, they were going in by Pelican.

Platoon Leader 2nd Lt. Greg Paulson put his hand to the side of his helmet. He motioned for Stacker to do the same, and both listened in on the transmission Peng was giving them.

"_Paulson, an ALTO team called Sierra-November-One is going after General Grievous. General Kenobi is ahead of them. He's chasing the fucker on a _dragon_, of all things…anyway, intel's spotted a platform with Grievous's fighter on it. Disable the fighter and cut off his retreat. You'll be supported by 2__nd__ Airborne Company's Parjai Squad. Their leader is Sergeant Barlex."_

"What about air support?" asked Paulson.

"_All I can give you is a Vulture gunship. Sorry."_

"No problem, sir," Paulson replied. "What else?"

"_We can't put you directly on the fighter's platform, so you'll be dropped off a few levels below it. Link up with Parjai Squad and punch a hole. The Vulture will follow you."_

"_Five seconds to dirt," _said the Pelican pilot. _"Give 'em hell."_

"Lock and load," said Paulson. He unlimbered the venerable MA5C Assault Rifle, checked the magazine and flipped the safety off.

Stacker left his SRS99D S2AM Sniper Rifle on his back and instead whipped out the M7 Submachine Gun, a better weapon at close quarters. Many civilians thought the M7 was small, having mostly seen it in the hands of Spartans on posters. While it was certainly smaller than the MA5C, it was still a medium-sized weapon. It fired 5x23mm (or.197 caliber) rounds, but the high rate of fire (900 rpm) compensated. From experience Stacker knew that the M7 wasn't especially effective against the B3 Battle Droids (a larger version of the B2 that was much slower but basically functioned as a walking tank), but B1 and B2 series droids didn't enjoy getting sprayed…as they learned when the crew bay swung around, exposing the Marines to the platform they were to land on. Stacker fired a few bursts at a group of spindly B1s. They went down fairly quick, but it took combined fire from three MA5Cs to kill the B3 that was supporting them. The Marines jumped out of the Pelican, and the dropship flew off, jinking wildly to avoid the anti-aircraft guns.

Another B3 appeared in the distance, and Stacker took out the S2. He aimed right in the center of the massive thing's head and fired twice. The first round destroyed the armored casing, causing it to fall off and reveal the droid's brain which was, conveniently, marked by a red glowing spot. Stacker's next round punched straight through the "brain", and the droid slumped over and fell with a _clang_.

"Charlie Foxtrot!" said one of his Marines, using the military designation for 'clusterfuck'. She pointed towards a group of dwarf spider droids that had been alerted to 1st Platoon's presence. All three marched towards them slowly, firing all the while. The ground around their feet exploded as cannon rounds slammed into the platform floor. One ODST took a direct hit, and was instantly vaporized. Another was blown off the platform, and his screams were drowned out but the spider droids' fire.

"Cover!" shouted Paulson. "Take cover! Platoon, EMP grenades, full spread! Slow 'em down!"

Ten GAR-issue EMP grenades landed around the spider droids' feet, going off instantly. The droids slowed, but their inner hardware was EMP-hardened, and the effect wore off quickly. They resumed their slow march, firing without pause. Behind them, a squad of B2s formed up.

The COM crackled, and a welcome voice came through: _"Ground, this is Vulture. We are on the scene."_

Paulson yelled as loud as he could over the mike. "Vulture, take out those dwarf spiders! We can't move till they're gone!"

"_Understood, ground."_

The AV-64 Vulture-II Gunship is the UNSC's heavy gunship, slowly phasing out the venerable Vulture-I in that role. Although a larger target than its predecessor, the Vulture-II compensates by having one of the heaviest armaments for a gunship of its class. Mounted on either side of the cockpit are two 30mm five-barrel Gatling turrets that fired 3,900 depleted uranium rounds per minute. Built directly into the underside of each wing are two pods. The top ones can unleash a hellish barrage of up to ten 70mm Anvil-III anti-materiel rockets at once. The other two were different loadouts; on the left side were five Scorpion anti-tank missiles, and on the left were four AIM-Jackhammer air-to-air missiles. The mere presence of one was sure to make smart soldiers run, and make dumb ones freeze like a deer in the headlights. But then, droids were never really smart anyway.

The Vulture pilot didn't thing that the three dwarf spider droids, or DSDs, merited the use of his few Scorpion missiles, and opened up with his Gatlings. The loud buzz of the two guns firing was deafening as it was frightening. The 30mm depleted uranium rounds blasted the DSDs apart, shredding their armor to pieces.

The B2s didn't seem to care, and marched on, oblivious. Five Anvil-IIIs smashed them to bits, and the droids assault was over.

"_Vulture to ground, we are out of targets. We are RTB to refuel and rearm. We'll be back in five."_

"Roger that, Vulture," said Paulson. "Out."

The gunship waved off, soaring towards the looming shape of the UNSC _Harbinger _(FFG-729). The frigate cast a shadow over the city as LAAT/i Gunships and Pelicans dropped off even more troops, and an additional shadow appeared; _RAS Prosecutor_, arriving with more Republic troops. The assault on Utapau was in full swing now, and the droids were being rolled over by a numerically superior force, a pleasant reversal.

Paulson waved his hand. "First Platoon, on me!"

It wasn't long before they met up with Sergeant Barlex and his squad. They had hunkered down behind a wrecked AAT tank and turned the ground in front of into into a sea of dead droid. Barlex saw Paulson…and aimed his rifle at him. "Mind your backs."

Pauslon ducked, saying, "What?!"

Barlex fired. A Scavenger droid that had been about to drill a hole in Paulson's head shuddered as the clone sergeant emptied his clip into it. It exploded into tiny bits. "You should also keep an eye on the sky, sir. Frelling Scav droids."

"I…Thanks, sergeant," Paulson said. "Where's the platform with the fighter?"

Barlex pointed up a tunnel. "We should get there fast, otherwise we won't be able to trap Grievous between us and them."

"Them?"

"ALTO Team Sierra November and General Kenobi."

"Oh, right."

000

Kelly was finding it hard to keep up with Kenobi's dragon-mount. The creature was _fast_, very fast. She was the only Spartan that was even close to the chase. The others were following by a Republic gunship, appearing every time the chase took them outside. Grievous was in some kind of one-wheeled transport, something like a Brute Chopper with the seat where the engine was supposed to be.

Suddenly, the dragon-mount made a burst of speed, bringing Kenobi alongside Grievous. Kelly cursed as she gave every last bit of strength she had to catch up with them, watching as the Jedi tried to stab or unseat the cyborg general with a Magna-Guard's electrostaff. Kenobi then jumped off the dragon-mount, landing next to Grievous, and the two grappled with each other while going extremely fast up a tunnel, nearly flipping as they passed a wrecked tank. They vanished from view.

Kelly came to a stop, too tired to run. The dragon-mount walked up to her, making a strange noise.

She eyed the creature. "Mind if I take over?"

00000


End file.
